LLER,~COU 


^..  .^ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Poison  Island 


Poison  Island 


By 
A.    T.    QUILLER-COUCH 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
NEW   YORK::::::::::::::::::::  1907 


Copyright  1906,  1907,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

Published,  February.  190T 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBtNDINQ  COMPAN* 

NEW  YORK 


'^IjS 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  How  I  First  Met  with  Captain  Coffin    .  1 

II.  I  AM  Entered  at  Copenhagen  Academy  .  11 

III.  A  Street  Fight,  and  What  Came  of  It  .  18 

IV.  Captain  Coffin  Studies  Navigation          .  26 
V.  The  Whaleboat        38 

VI.  My  First  Glimpse  of  the  Chart  ....     49 

VII.  Enter  the  Returned  Prisoner     ....     58 

VIII.  The  Hunted  and  the  Hunter 69 

IX.  Chaos  in  the  Captain's  Lodgings     ...     80 

X.  News 88 

XI.  The  Crime  in  the  Summer-House     ...     99 

XII.  The  Bloodstain  on  the  Stile  .     .     .     .     .109 

XIII.  Clews  in  a  Tangle 124 

XIV.  How  I  Broke  Out  the  Red  Ensign  .     .     .  136 

XV.    Captain    Branscome's    Confession  —  The 

Man  in  the  Lane 148 

XVI.    Captain    Branscome's     Confession  —  The 

Flag  and  the  Cashbox 163 

XVII.    The  Chart  of  Mortallone 178 

V 


548149 

tlSRARf 


CONTEXTS 

CHAPTER  PAOE 

XVI 11.  The  Contents  ok  the  Corner  Cupboard  187 

XIX.    Captain  Danny's  Log 199 

XX.  Captain  Danny's  Log  {continued)  .     .     .  216 

XXI.  In  which  Plinny  Surprises  Every  One  230 

XXII.  A  Strange  Man  in  the  Garden    .     .     .  242 

XXIII.  How  We  Sailed  to  the  Island     .     .     .  257 

XXIV.  We  Anchor  Off  the  Lsland 26.5 

XXV.  I  Take  French  Leave  Ashore  ....  277 

XXVI.  The  Women  in  the  Graveyard     .     .    .  290 

XXVII.    The  Man  in  Black 302 

XXVIII.    The  Master  op  the  Island 314 

XXIX.    A  Boat  on  the  Beach 327 

XXX.    The  Scream  on  the  Cliff 334 

XXXI.    Aaron  Glass 344 

XXXII.  We  Come  to  Dr.  Beauregard's  House  .3.56 

XXXIII.  We  Find  the  Treasure 375 

XXXIV.  Doctor  Beauregard 392 


VI 


Poison  Island 


POISON  ISLAND 

CHAPTER    I 

HOW  I  FIRST  MET  WITH  CAPTAIN  COFFIIT 

It  was  in  the  dusk  of  a  July  evening  of  the  year 
1813  (July  27th,  to  be  precise)  that  on  my  way  back 
from  the  mail-coach  office,  Falmouth,  to  Mr.  Stim- 
coe's  Academy  for  the  Sons  of  Gentlemen,  No.  7, 
Delamere  Terrace,  I  first  met  Captain  Coffin  as  he 
came  drunk  and  cursing  up  the  Market  Strand,  with 
a  rabble  of  children  at  his  heels.  I  have  reason  to  re- 
member the  date  and  hour  of  this  encounter,  not 
only  for  its  remarkable  consequences,  but  because  it 
befel  on  the  very  day  and  within  an  hour  or  two  of 
my  matriculation  at  Stimcoe's.  That  afternoon  I 
had  arrived  at  Falmouth  by  Royal  Mail,  in  charge  of 
Miss  Plinlimmon,  my  father's  housekeeper;  and  now 
but  ten  minutes  ago  I  had  seen  off  that  excellent  lady 
and  waved  farewell  to  her — not  without  a  sinking  of 
the  heart — on  her  return  journey  to  Minden  Cot- 
tage, which  was  my  home. 

My  name  is  Harry  Brooks,  and  my  age  on  this  re- 

1 


POISOX    ISLAND 

mcmbered  evening  was  fourteen  and  something  over. 
My  father,  Major  James  Brooks,  late  of  the  4th 
(King's  Own)  Regiment,  had  married  twice,  and  was 
for  the  second  time  a  widower  at  the  time  of  his  re- 
tirement from  active  service.  Blindness — contracted 
by  exposure  and  long  marches  over  the  snows  of 
Galicia — had  put  an  end  to  a  career  by  no  means  un- 
distinguished. In  his  last  fight,  at  Corunna,  he  had 
not  only  earned  a  mention  in  despatches  from  his 
brigadier-general.  Lord  William  Bentinck,  but  by  his 
alertness  in  handling  his  half-regiment  at  a  critical 
moment,  and  refusing  its  right  to  an  outflanking  line 
of  French,  had  been  privileged  to  win  almost  the  last 
word  of  praise  uttered  by  his  idolized  commander. 
My  father  heard,  and  faced  about,  but  his  eyes  were 
already  failing  him ;  and  Sir  John  Moore,  before  they 
could  speak  their  gratitude,  had  cantered  off  along 
the  brigade  to  encourage  the  50th  and  42nd  regi- 
ments in  turn,  and  to  receive,  a  few  minutes  later, 
the  fatal  cannon-shot. 

Every  one  has  heard  what  miseries  the  returning 
transports  endured  in  the  bitter  gale  of  January, 
1809.  The  "  Londonderry,"  in  which  my  father 
sailed,  did  indeed  escape  wreck,  but  at  the  cost  of  a 
week's  beating  about  the  mouth  of  the  Channel.  He 
was  by  rights  an  invalid,  having  taken  a  wound  in 
the  kneecap  from  a  spent  bullet,  one  of  the  last  fired 

2 


HOW   I   FIRST   MET   CAPTAIN  COFFIN" 

in  the  battle;  but  in  the  common  peril  he  bore  a  hand 
with  the  best.  For  three  days  and  two  nights  he 
never  shifted  his  clothing,  which  the  gale  alternately 
soaked  and  froze.  It  was  frozen  stiff  as  a  board  when 
the  "  Londonderry "  made  the  entrance  of  Plym- 
outh Sound;  and  he  was  borne  ashore  in  a  rheu- 
matic fever.  From  this,  and  from  his  wound,  the 
doctors  restored  him  at  length,  but  meanwhile  his 
eyesight  had  perished. 

His  misfortunes  did  not  end  here.  My  stepsister 
Isabel — a  beautiful  girl  of  seventeen,  the  only  child 
of  his  first  marriage — had  met  him  at  Plymouth  and 
nursed  him  through  his  illness,  and  had  brought  him 
home,  a  convalescent,  to  Minden  Cottage  and  to  the 
garden  which  henceforward  he  tilled,  but  saw  only 
through  memory.  Since  then  she  had  married  a 
young  officer  in  the  52d  Regiment,  a  Lieutenant 
Archibald  Plinlimmon;  but,  her  husband  having 
to  depart  at  once  for  the  Peninsula,  she  had  re- 
mained with  her  father,  and  tended  him  as  before, 
until  death  took  her — as  it  had  taken  her  mother — 
in  childbirth.  The  babe  did  not  survive  her;  and,  to 
complete  the  sad  story,  her  husband  fell  a  few  weeks 
later  before  Badajoz,  while  assaulting  the  Picurina 
Gate  with  fifty  axemen  of  the  Light  Division. 

Beneath  these  blows  of  fate  my  father  did  indeed 
bow  his  head,  yet  bravely.    From  the  day  Isabel  died 

3 


POISON    ISLAND 

his  shoulders  took  a  sensible  stoop;  but  this  was  the 
sole  evidence  of  the  mortal  wound  he  carried,  unless 
you  count  that  from  the  same  day  he  put  aside  his 
"  ^neid,"  and  taught  me  no  more  from  it,  but  spent 
his  hours  for  the  most  part  in  meditation,  often  with 
a  Bible  open  on  his  knee — although  his  eyes  could 
not  read  it.  Sally,  our  cook,  told  me  one  day  that 
when  the  foolish  midwife  came  and  laid  the  child  in 
his  arms,  not  telling  him  that  it  was  dead,  he  had 
first  felt  it  over  and  then  broken  forth  in  a  terrible 
cry — his  first  and  last  protest. 

In  me — the  only  child  of  his  second  marriage,  as 
Isabel  had  been  the  only  child  of  his  first — he  ap- 
peared to  have  lost  all  interest.  While  Isabel  lived 
there  had  been  reason  for  this^  or  excuse  at  least,  for 
he  had  loved  her  mother  passionately,  whereas  from 
mine  he  had  separated  within  a  day  or  two  after 
marriage,  having  married  her  only  because  he  was 
obliged — or  conceived  himself  obliged — by  honor. 
Into  this  story  I  shall  not  go.  It  was  a  sad  one,  and, 
strange  to  say,  sadly  creditable  to  both.  I  do  not 
remember  my  mother.  She  died,  having  taken  some 
pains  in  her  proud  indignation  to  hide  even  my  ex- 
istence from  her  husband,  who,  having  discovered 
me,  conscientiously  took  up  the  burden.  A  man 
more  strongly  conscientious  never  lived;  and  his 
sudden  neglect  of  me  had  nothing  to  do  with  caprice, 

4 


HOW   I   FIKST   MET   CAPTAIN   COFFIN 

biit  came — as  I  am  now  assured — of  some  lesion  of 
memory  under  the  shock  of  my  sister's  death.  As 
an  unregenerate  youngster  I  thought  little  of  it  at 
the  time,  beyond  rejoicing  to  be  free  of  my  daily  les- 
son in  Virgil. 

I  can  see  my  father  now,  seated  within  the 
summer-house  by  the  filbert-tree  at  the  end  of  the  or- 
chard— his  favorite  haunt — or  standing  in  the  door- 
way and  drawing  himself  painfully  erect,  a  giant 
of  a  man,  to  inhale  the  scent  of  his  flowers  or  listen 
to  his  bees  or  the  voice  of  the  stream  which  bounded 
our  small  domain.  I  see  him  framed  there,  his  head 
almost  touching  the  lintel,  his  hands  gripping  the 
posts  like  a  blind  Samson's,  all  too  strong  for  the 
flimsy  trelliswork.  He  wore  a  brown  holland  suit 
in  summer,  in  colder  weather  a  fustian  one  of  like 
color,  and  at  first  glance  you  might  mistake  him  for 
a  Quaker.  His  snow-white  hair  was  gathered,  close 
beside  the  temples,  back  from  a  face  of  ineffable  sim- 
plicity and  goodness — the  face  of  a  man  at  peace 
with  God  and  all  the  world,  yet  marked  with  scars — 
scars  of  bygone  passions,  cross-hatched  and  almost 
effaced  by  deeper  scars  of  calamity.     As  Miss  Plin- 

limmon  wrote  in  her  album: 

Few  men  so  deep  as  Major  Brooks 

Have  drained  affliction's  cup. 
Alas!  if  one  may  trust  his  looks, 
I  fear  he's  breaking  up!  - 


5 


POISON    ISLAND 

This  Miss  Plinlimmon,  a  maiden  aunt  of  the 
young  officer  who  had  been  slain  at  Badajoz,  kept 
house  for  us  since  my  sister's  death.  She  was  a  lady 
of  good  Welsh  family,  who  after  many  years  of  gen- 
teel poverty  had  come  into  a  legacy  of  seven  thou- 
sand pounds  from  an  East  Indian  uncle;  and  my 
father — a  simple  liver,  content  with  his  half-pay — 
had  much  ado  in  his  blindness  to  keep  watch  and  war 
upon  the  luxuries  she  untiringly  strove  to  smuggle 
upon  him.  For  the  rest.  Miss  Plinlimmon  wore  cork- 
screw curls,  talked  sentimentally,  worshipped  the 
manly  form  (in  the  abstract)  with  the  manly  virtues, 
and  possessed  (quite  unknown  to  herself)  the  heart 
of  a  lion. 

Upon  this  unsuspected  courage  and  upon  the 
strength  of  her  affection  for  me  she  had  drawn  on 
the  day  when  she  stood  up  to  my  father — of  whom, 
by  the  way,  she  was  desperately  afraid — and  told 
him  that  his  neglect  of  me  was  a  sin  and  a  shame 
and  a  scandal.  "  And  a  good  education,"  she  wouiid 
up  feebly,  "  would  render  Harry  so  much  more  of 
a  companion  to  you." 

My  father  rubbed  his  head  vaguely. 

''  Yes,  yes,  you  are  right.  I  have  been  neglecting 
the  boy.  But  pray  end  as  honestly  as  you  began,  and 
do  not  pretend  to  be  consulting  my  future  when  you 
are  really  pleading  for  his.     To  begin  with,  I  don't 

6 


HOW   I   FIRST   MET   CAPTAIX   COFFIX 

want  a  companion;  next,  I  should  not  immediately 
make  a  companion  of  Harry  by  sending  him  away 
to  school;  and,  lastly,  you  know  as  well  as  I  that  long 
before  he  finished  his  schooling  I  should  be  in  my 
grave." 

"  Well,  then,  consider  what  a  classical  education 
would  do  for  Harry!  I  feel  sure  that  had  I — par- 
don the  supposition — been  born  a  man,  and  made 
conversant  with  the  best  thoughts  of  the  ancients — 
Socrates,  for  example^ " 

"What  about  him?"  my  father  demanded. 

"  So  wise,  as  I  have  always  been  given  to  under- 
stand !  yet  in  his  own  age  misunderstood,  by  his  wife 
especially!  And,  to  crown  all,  unless  I  err,  drowned 
in  a  butt  of  hemlock !  " 

"Dear  madam,  pardon  me;  but  how  many  of 
these  accidents  to  Socrates  are  you  ascribing  to  his 
classical  education?" 

"  But  it  comes  out  in  so  many  ways,"  Miss  Plin- 
limmon  persisted;  "and  it  does  make  such  a  differ- 
ence! There's  a  je  ne  sais  quoi.  You  can  tell  it  even 
in  the  way  they  handle  a  knife  and  fork!  " 

That  evening,  after  supper.  Miss  Plinlimmon  de- 
clined her  customary  game  of  cards  with  me,  on  the 
pretence  that  she  felt  tired,  and  sat  for  a  long  while 
fumbling  with  a  newspaper,  which  I  recognized  for 
a  week-old  copy  of  the  "  Falmouth  Packet."     At 

7 


POISON    ISLAND 

length  she  rose  abruptly,  and,  crossing  over  to  the 
table  where  I  sat  playing  dominoes  (right  hand 
against  left),  thrust  the  paper  before  me,  and 
pointed  with  a  trembling  finger. 

"  There,  Harry!  What  would  you  say  to  that?  " 
I  brushed  my  dominoes  aside,  and  read: 
"  The  Reverend  Philip  Stimcoe,  B.A.  (Oxon.),  of 
Copenhagen  Academy,  7,  Delamere  Terrace,  begs  to 
inform  the  Nobility,  Clergy,  and  Gentry  of  Fal- 
mouth and  the  neighborhood  that  he  has  Vacancies 
for  a  limited  number  of  Pupils  of  good  Social  Stand- 
ing. Education  classical,  on  the  lines  of  the  best 
Public  Schools,  combined  with  Home  Comforts  un- 
der the  personal  supervision  of  Mrs.  Stimcoe  (niece 
of  the  late  Hon.  Sir  Alexander  O'Brien,  R.N.,  Ad- 
miral of  the  White  and  K.C.B.).  Backward  and 
delicate  boys  a  specialty.  Separate  beds.  Commo- 
dious playground  in  a  climate  unrivalled  for  pul- 
monary ailments.     Greenwich  time  kept." 

I  did  not  criticise  the  advertisement.  It  sufficed 
me  to  read  my  release  in  it;  and  in  the  same  instant 
I  knew  how  lonely  the  last  few  months  had  been,  and 
felt  myself  an  ingrate.  I  that  had  longed  unspeak- 
ably, if  but  half  consciously,  for  the  world  beyond 
Minden  Cottage — a  world  in  which  I  could  play  the 
man — welcomed  my  liberty  by  laying  my  head  on 
my  arms  and  breaking  into  unmanly  sobs. 

8 


HOW   I   FIKST   MET   CAPTAIN  COFFIN 

I  will  pass  over  a  blissful  week  of  preparation,  in- 
cluding a  journey  by  van  to  Torpoint,  and  by  ferry 
across  to  Plymouth,  where  x>Iiss  Plinlimmon  bought 
me  boots,  shirts,  collars,  under-garments,  a  valise,  a 
low-crowned  beaver  hat  for  Sunday  wear,  and  for 
week-days  a  cap  shaped  like  a  concertina;  where  I 
was  measured  for  two  suits  after  a  pattern  marked 
"Boy's  Clarence,  Gentlemanly";  and  where  I  ex- 
pended two-and-sixpence  of  my  pocket-money  on  a 
piratical  jack-knife  and  a  book  of  patriotic  songs — 
two  articles  indispensable,  it  seemed  to  me,  to  full- 
blooded  manhood;  and  I  will  come  to  the  day  when 
the  Royal  Mail  pulled  up  before  Minden  Cottage 
with  a  merry  clash  of  bits  and  swingle-bars,  and,  the 
scarlet-coated  guard  having  received  my  box  from 
Sally  the  cook,  and  hoisted  it  aboard  in  a  jiffy,  Miss 
Plinlimmon  and  I  climbed  up  to  a  seat  behind  the 
coachman.  My  father  stood  at  the  door,  and  shook 
hands  with  me  at  parting. 

"Good  luck,  lad,"  said  he;  "and  remember  our 
motto:  Nil  nisi  recte!  Good  luck  have  thou  with 
thine  honor.  'Tis  the  old  Psalmist's  wish.  And,  by 
the  way,  here's  half-a-sovereign  for  you." 

"  Cl'k !  "  from  the  coachman,  shortening  up  his 
enormous  bunch  of  reins — Ta-ra-ra !  from  the  guard's 
horn  close  behind  my  ear — and  we  were  off! 

Oh.  believe  me,  there  never  was  such  a  ride!    As 

9 


POISON   ISLAND 

we  swept  by  the  second  milestone  I  stole  a  look  at 
Miss  Plinlimmon.  She  sat  in  an  ecstasy,  with 
closed  eyes.  She  was,  as  she  put  it,  indulging  in 
mental  composition. 

Verses  composed  while  Riding  by  the  Royal  Mail. 


I've  sailed  at  eve  o'er  Plymouth  Sound — 

For  me  it  was  a  rare  excursion — 
Oblivious  of  the  risk  of  being  drown 'd, 

Or  even  of  a  more  temporary  immersion. 

I  dream 'd  myself  the  Lady  of  the  Lake, 

Or  an  Oriental  one  (within  limits)  on  the  Bosphorus. 

We  left  a  trail  of  glory  in  our  wake, 

Which  the  intelligent  boatman  ascribed  to  phosphorus. 

Yet  agreeable  as  I  found  it  o'er  the  ocean 

To  glide  within  my  bounding  shallop, 
I  incline  to  think  that  for  the  poetry  of  motion 

One  may  even  more  confidently  recommend  the  Tantivy 
Gallop. 


10 


CHAPTER    II 

I  AM  ENTEEED  AT  COPENHAGEN  ACADEMY 

Agreeable,  too,  as  I  found  it  to  be  whirled  be- 
tween the  hedgerows  behind  five  splendid  horses;  to 
watch  the  ostlers  run  out  with  the  relays;  to  catch 
blue  glimpses  of  the  Channel  to  southward;  to  dive 
across  dingles  and  past  fai^m-gates,  under  which 
the  cocks  and  hens  flattened  themselves  in  their  haste 
to  give  us  room;  to  gaze  back  over  the  luggage  and 
along  the  road,  and  assure  myself  that  the  rival 
coach  (the  Self-Defence)  was  not  overtaking  us — yet 
Falmouth,  when  we  reached  it,  was  best  of  all;  Fal- 
mouth, with  its  narrow  streets  and  crowd  of  sail- 
ors, postmen,  'longshoremen,  porters  with  wheelbar- 
rows, and  passengers  hurrying  to  and  from  the 
packets,  its  smells  of  pitch  and  oakum  and  canvas, 
its  shops  full  of  seamen's  outfits  and  instruments 
and  marine  curiosities,  its  upper  windows  where  par- 
rots screamed  in  cages,  its  alleys  and  quay-doors, 
giving  peeps  of  the  splendid  harbor,  thronged — to 
quote  Miss  Plinlimmon  again — "  with  varieties  of 
gallant  craft,  between  which  the  trained  nautical  eye 
may  perchance  distinguish,  but  mine  doesn't." 

11 


POISON    ISLAND 

'  The  residential  part  of  Falmouth  rises  in  neat  ter- 
races above  the  waterside,  and  of  these  Delamere 
Terrace  was  by  no  means  the  least  respectable.  The 
brass  doorplate  of  No.  7 — "  Copenhagen  Academy 
for  the  Sons  of  Gentlemen.  Principal,  the  Rev. 
Philip  Stimcoe,  B.A.  (Oxon.)  " — shone  immaculate; 
and  its  window-blinds  did  Mrs.  Stimcoe  credit,  as 
Miss  Plinlimmon  remarked  before  ringing  the  bell. 

Mrs.  Stimcoe  herself  opened  the  door  to  us,  in  a 
full  lace  cap  and  a  maroon-colored  gown  of  state. 
She  was  a  gaunt,  hard-eyed  woman,  tall  as  a  grena- 
dier, remarkable  for  a  long  upper  lip  decorated  with 
two  moles.  She  excused  her  condescension  on  the 
ground  that  the  butler  was  out,  taking  the  pupils  for 
a  walk;  and  conducted  us  to  the  parlor,  where  Mr. 
Stimcoe  sat  in  an  atmosphere  which  smelt  faintly  of 
sherry. 

Mr.  Stimcoe  rose  and  greeted  us  with  a  shaky 
hand.  He  was  a  thin,  spectacled  man,  with  a  pendu- 
lous nose  and  cheeks  disfigured  by  a  purplish  cutane- 
ous disorder  (which  his  wife,  later  on,  attributed  to 
his  having  slept  between  damp  sheets  while  the  hon- 
ored guest  of  a  nobleman,  whose  name  I  forget).  He 
wore  a  seedy  clerical  suit. 

"While  shaking  hands  he  observed  that  I  was  taller 
than  he  had  expected;  and  this,  absurdly  enough,  is 
all  I  remember  of  the  interview,  except  that  the 

12 


COPENHAGEN    ACADEMY 

room  had  two  empty  bookcases,  one  on  either  side  of 
the  chimney-breast;  that  the  fading  of  the  wallpaper 
above  the  mantelpiece  had  left  a  patch  recording 
where  a  clock  had  lately  stood  (I  conjectured  that 
it  must  be  at  Greenwich,  undergoing  repairs);  that 
Mrs.  Stimcoe  produced  a  decanter  of  sherry — a  wine 
which  Miss  Plinlimmon  abominated — and  poured 
her  out  a  glassful,  with  the  remark  that  it  had  been 
twice  round  the  world;  that  Miss  Plinlimmon  sup- 
posed vaguely  "  the  same  happened  to  a  lot  of  things 
in  a  seaport  like  Falmouth ;  "  and  that  somehow  this 
led  us  on  to  Mr.  Stimcoe's  delicate  health,  and  this 
again  to  the  subject  of  damp  sheets,  and  this  finally 
10  Mrs.  Stimcoe's  suggesting  that  Miss  Plinlimmon 
might  perhaps  like  to  have  a  look  at  my  bedroom. 

The  bedroom  assigned  to  me  opened  out  of  Mrs. 
Stimcoe's  own.  ("  It  will  give  him  a  sense  of  pro- 
tection. A  child  feels  the  first  few  nights  away  from 
home.")  Though  small,  it  was  neat,  and,  for  a  boy's 
wants,  amply  furnished;  nay,  it  contained  at  least 
one  article  of  supererogation,  in  the  shape  of  a  razor- 
case  on  the  dressing-table.  Mrs.  Stimcoe  swept  this 
into  her  pocket  with  a  turn  of  the  hand,  and  ex- 
plained frankly  that  her  husband,  like  most  scholars, 
was  absent-minded.  Here  she  passed  two  fingers 
slowly  across  her  forehead.  "  Even  in  his  walks,  or 
while  dressing,  his  brain  wanders  among  the  death- 

13 


POISON    ISLAND 

less  compositions  of  Greece  and  Rome,  turning  them 
into  English  metres — all  cakes  especially  " — she 
must  have  meant  alcaics — "  and  that  makes  him 
leave  things  about." 

I  had  fresh  and  even  more  remarkable  evidence 
of  Mr.  Stimcoe's  absent-mindedness  two  minutes 
later,  when,  the  sheets  having  been  duly  inspected, 
we  descended  to  the  parlor  again;  for,  happening  to 
reach  the  doorway  some  paces  ahead  of  the  two 
ladies,  I  surprised  him  in  the  act  of  drinking  down 
Miss  Plinlimmon's  sherry. 

The  interview  was  scarcely  resumed  before  a  mor- 
tuary silence  fell  on  the  room,  and  I  became  aware 
that  somehow  my  presence  impeded  the  discussion  of 
business. 

"  I  think  perhaps  that  Harry  would  like  to  run 
out  upon  the  terrace  and  see  the  view  from  his  new 
home,"  suggested  Mrs.  Stimcoe,  with  obvious  tact. 

I  escaped,  and  went  in  search  of  the  commodious 
playground,  which  I  supposed  to  lie  in  the  rear  of 
the  house;  but,  reaching  a  back-yard,  I  suddenly 
found  myself  face  to  face  with  three  small  boys,  one 
staggering  with  the  weight  of  a  pail,  the  two  others 
bearing  a  full  washtub  between  them;  and  with  sur- 
prise saw  them  set  down  their  burdens  at  a  distance 
and  come  tip-toeing  toward  me  in  a  single  file,  with 
theatrical  gestures  of  secrecy. 

14 


COPENHAGEN    ACADEMY 

"Hallo!"  said  I. 

"  Hist !  Be  dark  as  the  grave !  "  answered  the 
leader  in  a  stage-whisper.  He  was  a  freckly,  nar- 
row-chested child,  and  needed  washing.  "  You're 
the  new  boy,"  he  announced,  as  though  he  had 
tracked  me  down  in  that  criminal  secret. 

"  Yes,"  I  owned.     "  Who  are  you?  " 

"  We  are  the  Blood-stained  Brotherhood  of  the 
Pampas,  now  upon  the  trail!  " 

"  Look  here,"  said  I,  staring  down  at  him,  "  that's 
nonsense!  " 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  he  answered  promptly;  "  then 
we're  the  '  Backward  Sons  of  Gentlemen  ' — that's 
down  in  the  prospectus — and  we're  fetching  water 
for  Mother  Stimcoe,  because  the  turncock  cut  off  the 
company's  water  this  morning!  See?  But  you 
won't  blow  the  gaff  on  the  old  girl,  will  you?  " 

"  Are  you  all  there  is,  you  three?  "  I  asked,  after 
considering  them  a  moment. 

"  We're  all  the  boarders.  My  name's  Ted  Bates 
— they  call  me  Doggy  Bates — and  my  father's  a 
captain  out  in  India;  and  these  are  Bob  Pilking- 
ton  and  Scotty  Maclean.  You  may  call  him  Red- 
head, being  too  big  to  punch;  and,  talking  of  that, 
you'll  have  to  fight  Bully  Stokes." 

"  Is  he  a  day-boy?  "  I  asked. 

"  He's  cock  of  Eogerses  up  the  hill,  and  he  wants 

15 


POISOX    ISLAND 

it  badly.  Stimcoes  and  Ilogcrscs — hated  rivals,  you 
know.     If  you  can  whack  Bully  Stokes  for  us " 

"  But  Mr.  Stimcoe  told  me  that  you  were  taldng 
a  walk  with  the  butler,"  I  interrupted. 

Master  Bates  winked. 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  him?  " 

He  beckoned  me  to  an  open  window,  and  we 
gazed  through  it  upon  a  bare  back  kitchen,  and  upon 
an  extremely  corpulent  man  in  an  armchair,  slum- 
bering with  a  yellow  bandanna  handkerchief  over 
his  head  to  protect  it  from  the  flies.  Master  Bates 
whipped  out  a  pea-shooter,  and  blew  a  pea  on  to  the 
exposed  lobe  of  the  sleeper's  ear. 

"D n!  "    roared   the   corpulent   one,   leaping 

up  in  wrath.  But  we  were  in  hiding  behind  the  yard 
wall  before  he  could  pull  the  bandanna  from  his 
face. 

"  He's  the  bailiff,"  explained  Master  Bates. 
"  He's  in  possession.  Oh,  you'll  get  quite  friendly 
with  him  in  time.  Down  in  the  town  they  call  him 
Mother  Stimcoe's  lodger,  he  comes  so  often.  But,  I 
say,  don't  go  and  blow  the  gaff  on  the  old  girl." 

On  our  way  to  the  coach-office  that  evening  I  felt 
— as  the  saying  is — my  heart  in  my  mouth.  Miss 
Plinlimmon  spoke  sympathetically  of  Mr.  Stimcoe's 
state  of  health,  and  with  delicacy  of  his  absent- 
mindedness,  "  so  natural  in  a  scholar."    I  discovered 

16 


COPENHAGEN    ACADEMY 

long  afterward  that  Mr.  Stimcoe,  having  retired  to 
cash  a  note  for  her,  had  brought  back  a  strong  smell 
of  brandy  and  eighteenpenee  less  than  the  strict 
amount  of  her  change.  I  knew  in  my  heart  that  my 
new  schoolmaster  and  his  wife  were  a  pair  of  frauds, 
and  yet  I  choked  down  the  impulse  to  speak.  Per- 
haps Master  Bates's  loyalty  kept  me  on  my  mettle. 

The  dear  soul  and  I  bade  one  another  farewell, 
she  not  without  tears.  The  coach  bore  her  away; 
and  I  walked  back  through  the  crowded  streets  with 
my  spirits  down  in  my  boots,  and  my  fists  thrust 
deep  into  the  pockets  of  my  small-clothes. 

In  this  dejected  mood  I  reached  the  Market 
Strand  just  as  Captain  Coffin  came  up  it  from  the 
Plume  of  Feathers  public-house,  cursing  and  striking 
out  with  his  stick  at  a  mob  of  small  boys. 


17 


CHAPTER    III 

A    STREET    FIGHT,    AND    WHAT    CAME    OF    IT 

He  emerged  upon  the  street  which  crosses  the 
head  of  Market  Strand,  and,  dropping  his  arms, 
stood  for  a  moment  as  if  in  doubt  of  his  bearings. 
He  was  flagrantly  drunk,  but  not  aggressively.  He 
reminded  me  of  a  purblind  owl  that,  blundering  into 
daylight,  is  set  upon  and  mobbed  by  a  crowd  of  small 
birds. 

The  'longshoremen  and  loafers  grinned  and 
winked  at  one  another,  but  forbore  to  interfere. 
Plainly  the  spectacle  was  a  familiar  one. 

The  man  was  not  altogether  repulsive;  pitiable, 
rather — a  small,  lean  fellow,  with  a  gray-white  face 
drawn  into  wrinkles  about  the  jaw,  and  eyes  that 
wandered  timidly.  He  wore  a  suit  of  good  sea-cloth 
• — soiled,  indeed,  but  neither  ragged  nor  threadbare 
— and  a  blue  and  yellow  spotted  neckerchief,  the 
bow  of  which  had  worked  around  toward  his  right 
ear.  His  hat,  perched  a-cock  over  his  left  eye,  had 
made  acquaintance  with  the  tavern  sawdust.  Next 
to  his  drunkenness,  perhaps,  the  most  remarkable 

18 


A    STREET    EIGHT 

thing  about  him  was  his  stick — of  ebony,  very  curi- 
ously carved  in  rings  from  knob  to  ferule,  where  it 
ended  in  an  iron  spike — an  ugly  weapon,  of  which 
his  tormentors  stood  in  dread,  and  small  blame 
to  them. 

While  he  stood  hesitating  they  swarmed  close  and 
began  to  bay  him  afresh. 

"  Captain  Coffin,  Captain  Coffin!  "  "  Who  killed 
the  Portugee?  "  "  Who  hid  the  treasure  and  got  so 
drunk  he  couldn't  find  it?"  "Where's  your  ship, 
Cap'n  Danny?"  These  were  some  of  the  taunts 
flung;  and  as  the  urchins  danced  about  him,  yelling 
them,  the  passion  blazed  up  again  in  his  red-rimmed, 
watery  eyes. 

Amongst  the  crowd  capered  Ted  Bates. 

"Hallo,  Brooks!"  he  shouted,  and,  catchmg  at 
another  boy's  elbow,  pointed  toward  me.  Beyond 
noting  that  the  other  boy  had  a  bullet-shaped  head 
with  ears  that  stood  out  from  it  at  something  like 
right  angles,  I  had  time  to  take  very  little  stock  of 
him;  for  just  then,  as  Captain  Coffin  turned  about  to 
smite,  a  stone  came  flying  and  struck  him  smartly 
on  the  funny-bone.  His  hand  opened  with  the  pain 
of  it,  but  the  stick  hung  by  a  loop  to  his  wrist,  and, 
gripping  it  again,  he  charged  among  his  tormentors, 
lashing  out  to  right  and  left. 

So  savagely  he  charged  that  I  looked  for  nothing 

19 


■POISOX    ISLAND 

short  of  murder;  and  just  then,  while  I  stood  at  gaze, 
a  boy  stepped  up  to  me — the  same  that  Ted  Bates 
had  plucked  by  the  arm. 

"  Look  here !  "  said  he,  frowning,  with  his  legs 
a-straddle.  "  Doggy  Bates  tells  me  that  you  told 
him  you  could  whack  me  with  one  hand  behind 
you." 

I  replied  that  I  had  told  Doggy  Bates  nothing  of 
the  sort. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  he.  "  Then  you  take  it 
back?  " 

He  had  the  air  of  one  sure  of  his  logic,  but  his 
under  lip — not  to  mention  his  ears — protruded  in  a 
way  that  struck  me  as  offensive,  and  I  replied: 

"  That  depends." 

"  My  name's  Stokes,"  said  he,  still  in  the  same 
reasonable  tone.  "  And  you'll  have  to  take  coward's 
blow." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  said  L 

"  It's  the  rule,"  said  he,  and  gave  it  me  with  a 
light,  back-handed  smack  across  the  bridge  of  the 
nose;  whereupon  I  hit  him  on  the  point  of  the 
chin,  and,  unconsciously  imitating  Captain  Coffin's 
method  of  charging  a  crowd,  lowered  my  head  and 
butted  him  violently  in  the  stomach. 

I  make  no  doubt  that  my  brain  was  tired  and 
giddy  with  the  day's  experiences,  but  to  this  moment 

20 


A    STREET    FIGHT 

I  cannot  understand  why  we  two  suddenly  found 
ourselves  the  focus  of  interest  in  a  crowd  which  had 
wasted  none  on  Captain  Coffin. 

But  so  it  was.  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write, 
a  ring  surrounded  us — a  ring  of  men  staring  and 
offering  bets.  The  lamp  at  the  street-corner  shone 
on  their  faces ;  and  close  under  the  light  of  it  Master 
Stokes  and  I  were  hammering  one  another. 

We  were  fighting  by  rule,  too.  Some  one — I  can- 
not say  who — had  taken  up  the  affair,  and  was  im- 
posing the  right  ceremonial  upon  us.  It  may  have 
been  the  cheerful,  blue-jersey ed  Irishman  to  whose 
knee  I  returned  at  the  end  of  each  round  to  be  fresh- 
ened up  around  the  face  and  neck  with  a  dripping 
boat-sponge.  He  had  an  extraordinarily  wide  mouth, 
and  it  kept  speaking  encouragement  and  good  advice 
to  me.  I  feel  sure  he  was  a  good  fellow,  but  have 
never  set  eyes  on  him  from  that  hour  to  this. 

Bully  Stokes  and  I  must  have  fought  a  good  many 
rounds,  for  towards  the  end  we  were  both  panting 
hard,  and  our  hands  hung  on  every  blow.  But  I  re- 
member yet  more  vividly  the  strangeness  of  it  all, 
and  the  uncanny  sensation  that  the  fight  itself,  the 
street-lamp,  the  crowd,  and  the  dim  houses  around 
were  unreal  as  a  dream:  that,  and  the  unnatural 
hardness  of  my  opponent's  face,  which  seemed  the 
one  unmalleable  part  of  him. 

21 


POISON    ISLAND 

A  dreadful  thought  possessed  me  that  if  he  could 
only  contrive  to  hit  me  with  his  face  all  would  be 
over.  My  own  was  badly  pounded;  for  we  fought — 
or,  at  least,  I  fought — without  the  smallest  science; 
it  was  blow  for  blow,  plain  give-and-take,  from  the 
start.  But  what  distressed  me  was  the  extreme  ten- 
derness of  my  knuckles;  and  what  chiefly  irritated 
me  was  the  behavior  of  Doggy  Bates,  dancing  about 
and  screaming  "Go  it,  Stimcoes!  Stimcoes  for- 
ever! "  Five  times  the  onlookers  flung  him  out  by 
the  scruff  of  his  neck;  and  five  times  he  worked  him- 
self back,  and  screamed  it  between  their  legs. 

In  the  end  this  enthusiasm  proved  the  undoing  of 
all  his  delight.  Towards  the  end  of  an  intolerably 
long  round,  finding  that  my  arms  began  to  hang  like 
lead,  I  had  rushed  in  and  closed;  and  the  two  of  us 
went  to  ground  together.  There  I  lay  panting,  and 
my  opponent  under  me — the  pair  of  us  too  weary  for 
the  moment  to  strike  a  blow;  and  then,  as  breath 
came  back,  I  was  aware  of  a  sudden  hush  in  the  din. 
A  hand  took  me  by  the  shirt-collar,  dragged  me  to 
my  feet,  and  swung  me  round ;  and  I  stared,  blinking, 
into  the  face  of  Mr.  Stimcoe. 

"  Dishgrashf ul !  "  said  Mr.  Stimcoe.  He  was  ac- 
companied by  a  constable,  to  whom  he  appealed  for 
confirmation,  pointing  to  my  face.  "  Left  immy 
charge  only  this  evening.    Perf'ly  dishgrashf  ul !  " 

22 


A    STEEET    EIGHT 

"  Boys  will  be  boys,  sir,"  said  the  constable. 

"  M'  good  fellow  " — Mr.  Stimcoe  comprehended 
the  crowd  with  an  unsteady  wave  of  his  hand — "  that 
don't  'pply  'case  of  men.  Ne  tu  pu'ri  tempsherish 
annosh:  tha's  Juvenal." 

"  Then  my  advice  is,  sir — take  the  boy  home  and 
give  him  a  wash." 

"  He  can't/'  came  a  taunting  voice  from  the 
crowd.  "  'Cos  why?  The  company  've  cut  off  his 
water." 

Mr.  Stimcoe  gazed  around  in  sorrow  rather  than 
in  anger.  He  cleared  his  throat  for  a  public  speech; 
but  was  forestalled  by  the  constable's  dispersing  the 
throng  with  a  "  Clear  along,  now,  like  good  fel- 
lows! " 

The  wide-mouthed  man  helped  me  into  my  jacket, 
shook  hands  with  me,  and  said  I  had  no  science,  but 
the  devil's  own  pluck-and-lights.  Then  he,  too,  faded 
away  into  the  night;  and  I  found  myself  alongside 
of  Doggy  Bates,  marching  up  the  street  after  Mr. 
Stimcoe,  who  declaimed,  as  he  went,  upon  the  vul- 
garity of  street-fighting. 

By  and  by  it  became  apparent  that  he  had  forgot- 
ten us  in  the  soothing  flow  of  his  own  eloquence;  and 
Doggy  Bates,  who  understood  his  preceptor's  habits 
to  a  hair,  checked  me  with  a  knowing  squeeze  of  the 
arm,  and  began,  of  set  purpose,  to  lag  in  his  steps. 

23 


POISOX    ISLAND 

Mr.  Stimcoe  strode  on,  still  audibly  denouncing  and 
exhorting. 

"It  was  all  my  fault!"  groaned  Master  Bates, 
pulling  up  and  studying  my  mauled  face  by  the  light 
of  a  street-lamp.  "  Old  Brandy-and-Water  heard  me 
shouting  his  own  name,  silly  fool  that  I  was!  " 

I  begged  him  not  to  be  distressed  on  my  account. 

"What's  the  use  of  half  a  fight?"  he  groaned 
again.  "  My  word,  though,  won't  Stimcoe  catch  it 
from  the  missus !  She  sent  him  out  to  get  change  for 
your  aunt's  notes — '  fees  payable  in  advance.'  I 
know  the  game — to  pay  off  the  bailey;  and  he's  been 
soaking  in  a  public-house  ever  since.     Hallo!  " 

We  turned  together  at  the  sound  of  footsteps  ap- 
proaching after  us  up  the  street.  They  broke  into 
a  run,  then  appeared  to  falter;  and,  peering  into  the 
dark  interval  between  us  and  the  next  lamp,  I  dis- 
cerned Captain  Coffin.  He  had  come  to  a  halt,  and 
stood  there  mysteriously  beckoning. 

"You — I  want  you!"  he  called  huskily.  "Not 
the  other  boy!    You!" 

I  obeyed,  having  a  reputation  to  keep  up  in  the 
eyes  of  Doggy  Bates;  but  my  courage  was  oozing  as 
I  walked  towards  the  old  man,  and  I  came  to  a  sud- 
den stop  about  five  yards  from  him. 

"  Closer!  "  he  beckoned.  "  Good  boy,  don't  be 
afraid.     What's  your  name,  good  boy?" 

24 


A    STREET    FIGHT 

"  Harry  Brooks,  sir." 

"  Call  me  '  sir,'  do  you?  Well,  and  you're  right. 
I  could  ride  in  my  coach-and-six  if  I  chose;  and  some 
day  you  may  see  it.  How  would  you  like  to  ride  in 
your  coach-and-six,  Harry  Brooks?  " 

"  I  should  like  it  finely,  sir,"  said  I,  humoring  him. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I'll  wager  you  would.  Well,  now — 
come  closer.  Mum's  the  word,  eh?  I  like  you, 
Harry  Brooks;  and  the  boys  in  this  town" — he 
broke  off  and  cursed  horribly — "  they're  not  fit  to 
carry  slops  to  a  bear,  not  one  of  'em.  But  you're 
different.  And,  see  here :  any  time  you're  in  trouble, 
just  pay  a  call  on  me.  Understand?  Mind  you,  I 
make  no  promises."  Here,  to  my  exceeding  fright, 
he  reached  out  a  hand,  and,  clutching  me  by  the 
arm,  drew  me  close,  so  that  his  breath  poured  hot 
on  my  ear,  and  I  sickened  at  its  reek  of  brandy. 
"  It's  money,  boy — money,  1  tell  you !  " 

He  dropped  my  arm,  and,  falling  back  a  pace, 
looked  nervously  about  him.  "  Between  you  and  me 
and  the  gatepost,  eh?"  he  asked. 

His  hand  went  down  and  tapped  his  pocket  slyly, 
and  with  that  he  turned  quickly  and  shuffled  away 
down  the  street.  I  stared  after  him  into  the  foggy 
darkness,  listening  to  the  tap  of  his  stick  upon  the 
cobbles. 


25 


CHAPTER   IV 

CAPTAIN    COFFIN   STUDIES   NAVIGATION 

Events  soon  to  be  narrated  made  my  sojourn  in 
tutelage  of  Mr.  Stimcoe  a  brief  one,  and  I  will  pass 
it  lightly  over. 

The  school  consisted  of  four  boarders  and  six 
backward  sons  of  gentlemen  resident  in  the  town, 
and  assembled  daily  in  a  large  outhouse  furnished 
with  desks  of  a  peculiar  pattern,  known  to  us  as 
"  scobs."  Mr.  Stimcoe,  who  had  received  his  educa- 
tion as  a  "  querister "  at  Winchester  (and  after- 
ward as  a  "  servitor "  at  Pembroke  College,  Ox- 
ford), habitually  employed  and  taught  us  to  employ 
the  esoteric  slang — or  "  notions,"  as  he  called  it — of 
that  great  public  school;  so  that  in  "  preces," 
"  morning  lines,"  "  book-chambers,"  and  what  not 
we  had  the  names  if  not  the  things,  and  a  vague  and 
quite  illusory  sense  of  high  connection,  on  the 
Strength  of  which^  and  of  our  freedom  from  what 
Mrs.  Stimcoe  called  "  the  commercial  taint,"  we 
made  bold  to  despise  the  more  prosperous  Rogerses 
up  the  hill. 

26 


COFFIN    STUDIES    NAVIGATION 

Upon  commerce  in  the  concrete — that  is  to  say, 
upon  the  butchers,  bakers,  and  other  honest  trades- 
men of  Falmouth — Mrs.  Stimcoe  waged  a  predatory- 
war,  and  waged  it  mercilessly.  She  had  a  genius  for 
opening  accounts,  and  something  more  than  genius 
for  keeping  her  creditors  at  bay.  She  never 
wheedled  nor  begged  them  for  time;  she  never  com- 
promised nor  parleyed,  nor  condescended  to  yield  an 
inch  to  their  claims  for  decent  human  treatment. 
She  relied  simply  upon  browbeating  and  the  efficacy 
of  the  straight-spoken  lie.  A  more  dauntless,  un- 
blushing, majestic  liar  never  stood  up  in  petticoats. 

She  was  a  byword  in  Falmouth ;  yet,  strange  to  say, 
her  victims  would  own  to  a  sneaking  fondness  for 
her,  almost  amounting  to  respect.  Britons  will  pay 
this  tribute  to  courage  even  in  their  worst  enemy. 
We  boys,  too,  kept  a  soft  spot  in  our  hearts  for  the 
Warrior,  as  we  called  her.  It  was  not  in  her  nature 
to  encourage  any  such  weakness.  She  would  not 
have  thanked  us  for  it.  But  we  had  this  amount  of 
excuse:  that  she  fed  us  liberally  when  she  could 
browbeat  the  butcher;  and  if  at  times  we  went  short, 
she  shared  our  privation.  Also,  there  must  have 
been  some  good  in  the  woman  to  stand  so  unflinch- 
ingly by  Stimcoe.  Stimcoe's  books  had  gone  into 
storage  at  the  pawnbroker's;  but  in  his  bare 
"  study,"  where  he  heard  our  construing  of  Csesar 

27 


POISON    ISLAND 

and  Homer,  stood  a  screen,  and  behind  it  an  eigh- 
teen-gallon  cask.  A  green  baize  tablecloth  covered 
the  cask  from  sight,  and  partially  muffled  the  sound 
of  its  rimning  tap  when  Stimcoe  withdrew  behind 
the  screen  to  consult,  as  he  put  it,  his  lexicon. 

His  one  assistant,  who  figured  in  the  prospectus  as 
"  Teacher  of  English,  the  Mathematics,  and  Naviga- 
tion," was  a  retired  packet-captain,  Branscome  by- 
name, but  known  among  us  as  Captain  Gamey,  by 
reason  of  an  injured  leg.  He  had  taken  the  hurt — 
splintered  hip-bone — while  fighting  his  ship  against 
a  French  privateer,  off  Guadeloupe,  and  it  had  re- 
tired him  from  the  service  of  my  lords  the  Post- 
masters-General upon  a  very  small  pension  and  a 
sword  of  honor  subscribed  for  by  the  merchants  of 
the  City  of  London,  whose  mails  he  had  gallantly 
saved.  These  resources  being  barely  sufficient  to 
maintain  him,  still  less  to  permit  his  helping  a  wid- 
owed sister  with  a  long  family  whom  he  had  partly 
maintained  during  his  days  of  service,  he  eked  them 
out  by  schoolmastering;  and  a  dreadful  trade  he 
must  have  found  it.  In  person  he  was  slight  and 
wiry,  of  a  clear,  ruddy  complexion,  with  gray  hair, 
and  a  grave  simplicity  of  manner.  He  wore  a  tightly 
buttoned,  blue  uniform  coat,  threadbare  and  frayed 
but  scrupulously  brushed,  noticeably  clean  linen,  and 
white  duck  trousers  in  all  weathers.    He  walked  with 

28 


COFFIN    STUDIES    NA\aGATIOX 

the  support  of  a  malacca  cane,  dragging  his  wounded 
leg  after  him;  and  had  a  trick  of  talking  to  himself 
as  he  went. 

I  need  scarcely  say  that  we  mimicked  him;  but  in 
school  he  kept  far  better  discipline  than  Stimcoe,  for, 
with  all  his  oddity,  we  knew  him  to  be  a  brave  man. 
Such  mathematics  as  we  needed  he  taught  capably 
enough  and  very  patiently.  The  "  navigation,"  so 
far  as  we  were  concerned,  was  a  mere  flourish  of  the 
prospectus;  and  his  qualifications  as  a  teacher  of 
English  began  and  ended  with  an  enthusiasm  for  Dr. 
Johnson's  "  Rasselas." 

Such  was  Captain  Branscome;  and,  such  as  he  was, 
he  kept  the  school  running  on  days  when  Stimcoe 
was  merely  drunk  and  incapable.  He  even  treated 
Mrs.  Stimcoe  with  the  finest  courtesy,  and,  alone 
among  her  creditors,  was  rewarded  with  that  lady's 
respect. 

I  knew,  to  be  sure — we  all  knew — that  she  must 
be  in  arrears  with  Captain  Branscome's  pay;  but  we 
were  unprepared  for  the  morning  when,  on  the 
stroke  of  the  church  clock — our  Greenwich  time — 
he  walked  up  to  the  door,  resolutely  handed  Mrs. 
Stimcoe  a  letter,  and  as  resolutely  walked  away 
again,  Stimcoe  had  been  maudlin  drunk  for  a  week, 
and  could  not  appear.  His  wife  heroically  stepped 
into  the  breach,  and  gave  us  as  a  geography  lesson 

29 


POISOX    ISLAND 

some  account  of  her  uncle  the  admiral,  and  his  career 
— "  distinguished,  but  wandering,"  as  she  put  it. 

I  remember  little  of  this  lesson  save  that  it  dis- 
pensed— wisely,  no  doubt — with  the  use  of  the  ter- 
restrial globe;  that  it  included  a  description  of  the 
admiral's  country  seat  in  County  Roscommon,  and 
an  account  of  a  ball  given  by  him  to  celebrate  Mrs. 
Stimcoe's  arrival  at  marriageable  age,  with  a  list  of 
the  notabilities  assembled;  and  that  it  ended  in  her 
rapping  Doggy  Bates  over  the  head  with  a  ruler,  for 
biting  his  nails.    From  that  moment  anarchy  reigned. 

It  reigned  for  a  week.  I  have  since  wondered  how 
our  six  day-boys  managed  to  refrain  from  carrying 
home  a  tale  which  must  have  brought  their  parents 
down  upon  us  en  masse.  Great  is  schoolboy  honor — 
great,  and  more  than  a  trifle  quaint.  In  any  case, 
the  parents  must  have  been  singularly  unobservant 
or  singularly  slow  to  reason  upon  what  they  ob- 
served; for  we  sent  their  backward  sons  home  to 
them  each  night  in  a  mask  of  ink. 

Saturday  came,  and  brought  the  usual  half-holi- 
day. We  boarders  celebrated  it  by  a  raid  upon  the 
backyard  of  Rogerses — Bully  Stokes  being  tempo- 
rarily incapacitated  by  chicken-pox — and  possessed 
ourselves,  after  a  gallant  fight,  of  Rogerses'  football. 
Superior  numbers  drove  us  back  to  our  own  door, 
when — at   tlie    invocation    of   all    the    householders 

30 


COFFIX    STUDIES    ITAVIGATIOK 

along  Delamere  Terrace — the  constable  intervened; 
but  we  retained  the  spoil. 

At  the  shut  of  dusk,  as  we  kicked  the  football  in 
triumph  about  our  own  backyard,  Mrs.  Stimcoe 
sought  me  out  with  a  letter  to  be  conveyed  to  Cap- 
tain Branscome.     I  took  it  and  ran. 

The  lamplighter,  going  his  rounds,  met  me  at  the 
corner  of  Killigrew  Street,  and  directed  me  to  the 
alley  in  which  the  captain's  lodgings  lay.  The  alley 
was  dark,  but  a  little  within  the  entrance  my  eyes 
caught  the  glimmer  of  a  highly  polished  brass  door- 
knocker, and  upon  this  I  rapped  at  a  venture. 

Captain  Branscome  opened  to  me.  The  house  had 
no  passage.  Its  front  door  opened  directly  upon  a 
whitewashed  room,  with  a  round  table  in  the  centre, 
covered  with  charts.  On  the  table,  too,  stood  a  lamp, 
the  light  of  which  dazzled  me  for  a  moment.  On  the 
walls  hung  the  captain's  sword  of  honor  (above  the 
mantelpiece),  a  couple  of  bookshelves,  well  stored, 
and  a  panel  with  a  ship  upon  it — a  brig  in  full  sail — 
carved  in  high-relief  and  painted.  My  eyes,  how- 
ever, were  not  for  these,  but  for  a  man  who  sat  at 
the  table,  poring  over  the  charts,  and  lifted  his  head 
nervously  to  blink  at  me.    It  was  Captain  Coffin. 

While  I  stared  at  him  Captain  Branscome  took  the 
letter  from  me.  It  contained  some  pieces  of  silver, 
as  I  knew  from  its  weight  and  the  feel  of  it — five 

31 


POTSOX    TSLAXD 

shillings,  as  I  judged,  or  perhaps  seven-and-sixpence. 
As  his  hand  weighed  it  I  saw  a  sudden  relief  on  his 
face,  and  realized  how  gray  and  pinched  it  had  been 
when  he  opened  the  door  to  me. 

He  poised  the  envelope  in  his  hand  for  a  moment, 
then  broke  the  seal  very  deliberately,  took  out  the 
coins,  and,  as  if  weighing  them  in  his  palm,  turned 
back  to  the  table,  and  laid  Mrs.  Stimcoe's  letter  close 
under  the  lamp  while  he  searched  for  his  gold- 
rimmed  spectacles. 

(There  was  a  tradition  at  Stimcoe's,  by  the  way, 
that  the  London  merchants,  finding  a  small  surplus 
of  subscriptions  in  hand  after  purchasing  the  sword 
of  honor,  had  presented  him  with  these  spectacles  in 
addition,  and  that  he  valued  them  no  less.) 

"  Brooks,"  gaid  he,  laying  down  the  letter  and 
pushing  the  spectacles  high  on  his  forehead  while  he 
gazed  at  me,  "  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question  in  confi- 
dence. Had  Mrs.  Stimcoe  any  difiiculty  in  finding 
this  money?  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  I,  "  I  oughtn't  perhaps  to  know 
it,  but  she  pawned  Stim — Mr.  Stimcoe's  Cicero  this 
morning,  the  six  volumes — with  a  shield  on  the  cov- 
ers— that  he  got  as  a  prize  at  Oxford." 

"  Good  Lord!  "  said  Captain  Branscome  slowly. 
As  if  in  absence  of  mind  he  stepped  to  a  side-cup- 
board and  looked  within.    It  was  bare  but  for  a  plate 

32 


COFFIN    STUDIES    NAYIGATI0:N" 

and  an  apple.  He  took  up  the  apple,  and  was  about 
to  offer  it  to  me,  but  set  it  back  slowly  on  the  plate, 
and  locked  the  cupboard  again.  "  Good  Lord!  "  he 
repeated  quietly,  and,  linking  his  hands  under  his 
coat-tails,  strode  twice  backwards  and  forwards 
across  the  room. 

Captain  Coffin  looked  up  from  his  charts  and 
stared  at  him,  and  I,  too,  stared,  waiting  in  the  semi- 
darkness  beyond  the  lamp's  circle. 

"  Good  Lord!  "  said  Captain  Branscome  for  the 
third  time.  "And  it's  Saturday,  too!  You'll  ex- 
cuse me  a  moment." 

And  with  that  he  caught  up  the  letter,  and  made 
a  dart  up  the  wooden  staircase,  which  led  straight 
from  a  corner  of  the  room  through  a  square  hole  in 
the  ceiling  to  his  upper  chamber. 

"  Money  again !  "  said  Captain  Coffin,  turning  his 
eyes  upon  me  and  blinking.   "  jSTothing  like  money!  '* 

He  picked  up  a  pair  of  compasses,  spread  them  out 
on  the  paper  of  figures  before  him,  and  winked  at 
me  with  a  sly,  silly  smile. 

"You  won't  guess  what  I'm  doing?"  he  chal- 
lenged. 

"  No." 

"  I'm  studyin'  navigation.  Cap'n  Branscome's 
larnin'  it  to  me.  Some  people  has  luck  an'  some  has 
heads;  an'  with  a  head  on  my  shoulders  same  as  I 

33 


POISOX    ISLAND 

had  at  your  age,  I'd  be  Prime  Minister  an'  Lord 
Mayor  of  Lunnon  rolled  into  one,  by  crum!  "  He 
reached  across  for  Captain  Branscome's  sextant,  and 
held  it  between  his  shaking  hands.  "  He  can  do  it ; 
hundreds  o'  men — thick-headed  men  in  the  ord'nary 
way — can  do  it;  take  a  vessel  out  o'  Falmouth  here, 
as  you  might  say,  and  hold  her  'crost  the  Atlantic, 
as  you  might  put  it;  whip  her  along  for  thirty  days, 
we'll  say;  an'  then,  'To-morrow,  if  the  wind  holds, 
an'  about  six  in  the  mornin','  they'll  say,  '  there'll  be 
an  island  with  a  two-three  palm-trees  on  a  hill  an'  a 
spit  o'  sand  bearing  nor'-by-west.  Bring  'em  in  line,' 
they'll  say,  '  an'  then  you  may  fetch  my  shaving- 
water.'  And  all  the  while  no  more'n  ordinary  men, 
same  as  you  and  me.  Whereby  I  allow  it  must  come 
in  time,  though  my  head  don't  seem  to  get  no  grip 
on  it." 

Captain  CofRn  stared  for  a  moment  at  a  sheet  of 
paper  on  whicli  he  had  been  scribbling  figures,  and 
passed  it  over  to  me,  with  a  sigh. 

"  There!  What  d'you  make  of  it?  " 
At  a  glance  I  saw  that  nothing  could  be  made  of 
it.  The  figures  crossed  one  another,  and  ran  askew; 
here  and  there  they  trailed  off  into  mere  illegibility. 
In  the  left-hand  bottom-corner  I  saw  a  23  set  under 
a  10,  and  beneath  it  the  result — 17 — underlined, 
which,  as  a  sum^  left  much  to  be  desired,  whether 

34 


COFFIN    STUDIES    NAVIGATION" 

you  took  it  in  addition,  subtraction,  multiplication, 
or  division. 

"  And  yet,"  he  went  on  plaintively,  "  there's  hun- 
dreds can  do  it — even  ord'nary  men." 

He  reached  out  a  hand  and  gripped  me  by  the 
elbow;  and  again  his  brandy-laden  breath  sickened 
me  as  he  drew  me  close. 

"  S'pose,  noWj  you  was  to  do  this  for  me?  You 
could,  you  know.  And  there's  money  in  it — lashin's 
o'  money!  " 

He  winked  at  me,  glanced  around  the  room,  and 
with  an  indescribable  air  of  slyness  dived  a  hand  into 
his  breast-pocket. 

"  It's  here,"  he  nodded,  drawing  out  a  small  par- 
cel wrapped  about  in  what  at  first  glance  appeared 
to  me  to  be  a  piece  of  pig's  bladder.  "  Here.  And 
enough  to  set  you  an'  me  up  for  life."  In  shape  the 
parcel  resembled  a  bag,  tied  about  the  neck  with  a 
piece  of  tarry  string.  His  fingers  fumbled  with  this 
for  two  or  three  seconds^  but  presently  faltered. 
"  You  come  to  me  to-morrow,"  he  went  on,  still  with 
the  same  air  of  mystery,  "  and  I'll  show  you  some- 
thing. Up  the  hill,  past  Market  Strand,  till  you 
come  to  a  signboard  '  G.  Goodfellow.  Funerals  Fur- 
nished ' — first  turning  to  the  right  down  the  court, 
and  knock  three  times." 

Here  he  whipped  the  parcel  back  into  his  pocket, 

35 


POISON    ISLAND 

picked  up  his  compasses,  and  made  transparent  pre- 
tence to  be  occupied  in  measuring  distances  as  Cap- 
tain Branscome  came  down  the  stairs  from  the 
garret. 

Captain  Branscome  gave  no  sign  of  observing  his 
confusion,  but  signalled  to  me  to  step  outside 
with  him  into  the  alley,  where  he  pressed  an  envel- 
ope into  my  hand.  By  the  weight  of  it  I  knew  on 
the  instant  that  he  was  returning  Mrs.  Stimcoe's 
money. 

"  And  tell  her,"  said  he,  "  that  I  will  come  on 
Monday  morning  at  nine  o'clock  as  usual." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

I  turned  to  go.  I  could  not  see  his  face  in  the 
gloom  of  the  alley,  but  I  had  caught  one  glimpse  of 
it  by  the  lamplight  within,  and  knew  what  had  de- 
tained him  upstairs.  Honest  man,  he  was  starving, 
and  had  been  praying  up  there  to  be  delivered  from 
temptation. 

"  Brooks,"  said  he,  as  I  turned,  "  they  tell  me 
your  father  was  once  a  major  in  the  Army.  Is  he, 
by  chance,  the  same  Major  Brooks — Major  James 
Brooks,  of  the  King's  Own — I  had  the  honor  to 
bring  home  in  the  'Londonderry,'  after  Corunna?'* 

"  That  must  have  been  my  father,  sir." 

"  A  good  man  and  a  brave  one.  I  am  glad  to  hear 
he  is  recovered." 

36 


COFFIN    STUDIES   NAVIGATION 

I  told  him  in  a  word  or  two  of  my  father's  health 
and  of  his  blindness. 

"  And  he  lives  not  far  from  here?  "  I  remembered 
afterwards  that  his  voice  shook  upon  the  question. 

I  described  Minden  Cottage  and  its  position  on 
the  road  towards  Plymouth.  He  cut  me  short  hur- 
riedly, and  remarked,  with  a  nervous  laugh,  that  he 
must  be  getting  back  to  his  pupil.  Whereat  I,  too, 
laughed. 

"  Do  you  think  it  wrong  of  me,  boy?  "  he  asked 
abruptly. 

"Wrong,  sir?" 

"He  insists  upon  coming;  and  he  pays  me.  He 
will  never  learn  anything.  By  the  way,  Brooks,  I 
have  been  inhospitable.     An  apple,  for  instance?  " 

I  declared  untruthfully  that  I  never  ate  apples; 
and  perhaps  the  lie  was  pardonable,  since  by  it  I  es- 
caped eating  Captain  Branscome's  Sunday  dinner. 


37 


CHAPTER   V 


THE    WIIALEBOAT 


A  baebee's  pole  protruded  beside  the  opening  lead- 
ing to  Captain  Coffin's  lodgings.  It  was  painted 
in  spirals  of  scarlet  and  blue,  and  at  the  end  of  it 
a  cage  containing  a  gray  parrot  dangled  over  the 
footway. 

"  Drunk  again !  "  screamed  the  parrot,  as  I  hesi- 
tated before  the  entrance,  for  the  dire-  ""ing-marks 
just  here  were  so  numerous  as  to  be  perplexing.  To 
the  right  of  the  alley  the  barber  had  affixed  his  sign- 
board, close  above  the  base  of  his  pole;  to  the  left  a 
flanking  slopshop  dangled  a  row  of  cast-off  suits, 
while  immediately  overhead  was  nailed  a  board 
painted  over  with  ornate  flourishes  and  the  surpris- 
ing legend: 

"  G.  Goodfellow.  Carpenter  and  House-Deco- 
rator, &c.  Repairs  ISTeatly  Executed.  Instruction 
in  the  Violin.  Funerals  at  the  Shortest  Notice. 
Shipping  Supplied." 

"  Drunk  again !  "  repeated  the  parrot.     "  Kiss  me, 

38 


THE    WHALEBOAT 

kiss  me,  kiss  me,  kiss  me!  Oh,  you  nasty  image! 
Kiss  me,  kiss  me!     Who  killed  the  Portugee?" 

"  He  don't  mean  you,"  explained  the  barber  reas- 
suringly, emerging  at  that  moment  from  his  shop 
with  a  pannikin  of  water  for  the  parrot's  cage,  which 
he  lowered  very  deftly  by  means  of  a  halliard  reeved 
through  a  block  at  the  end  of  the  pole.  "  He  means 
old  Coffin.    Nice  bird,  hey?" 

He  slipped  a  hand  through  the  cage-door,  and 
caressed  him,  scratching  his  head. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  I,  "  it's  Captain  Coffin 
I'm  looking  for." 

"  Drunk  again!  "  screamed  the  bird.  "  Damn  my 
giblets,  drunk  again!  " 

"  He  don't  like  Coffin,  and  that's  a  fact,"  said  the 
barber. 

"  He  don't  appear  to,  sir,"  I  agreed. 

"  You'll  find  the  old  fellow  down  the  yard.  That 
is,  if  you  really  want  him."  The  barber  eyed  me 
doubtfully.  "  He's  sober  enough,  just  now;  been 
swearin'  off  his  liquor  for  a  week.  I  dare  say  you 
know  his  temper's  uncertain  at  such  times." 

I  did  not  know  it,  but  was  too  far  committed  to 
retreat. 

"  Well,  you'll  ffiid  him  down  the  yard — green 
door  to  the  right,  with  the  brass  knocker.  He's  out 
at  the  back,  hammering  at  his  ship,  but  he'll  hear 

39 


POISOX    ISLAND 

you   fast    enough:    he's    wonderful   quick    of   hear- 
ing.' 

A  man,  even  though  he  possessed  a  solid  brass 
knocker,  had  need  to  be  quick  of  hearing  in  that 
alley.  Without,  street-hawkers  were  bawling  and 
carts  rattling  on  the  cobbled  thoroughfare;  from  the 
entrance  the  parrot  vociferated  after  me  as  I  went 
down  the  passage  beneath  an  open  window  whence 
an  invisible  violin  repeated  the  opening  phrase  of 
"  Come,  cheer  up,  my  lads!  "  plaintively  and  persist- 
ently; while  from  the  far  end,  somewhere  between  it 
and  the  harbor  side,  an  irregular  hammering  punctu- 
ated the  music. 

I  knocked,  and  the  hammering  ceased.  The  rest 
of  the  din  ceased  not,  nor  abated.  In  about  a  minute 
the  green  door  opened — a  cautious  inch  or  two  at 
first,  then  wide  enough  to  reveal  Captain  Cofiin.  He 
wore  a  dirty  white  jumper  over  his  upper  garments, 
and  held  a  formidable  mallet.  I  observed  that  either 
his  face  was  unnaturally  white  or  the  rims  of  his 
eyes  were  unnaturally  red,  and  that  sawdust  be- 
sprinkled his  hair  and  collar.  I  recalled  the  tavern 
sawdust  which  had  bepowdered  his  hat  on  the  night 
of  our  first  meeting,  and  jumped  to  a  wrong  con- 
clusion. 

"Eh?  It's  Brooks — the  boy  Brooks!  Glad  to  see 
vou,  Brooks!     Come  inside." 

40 


THE    WHALEBOAT 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  I,  feeling  a  strong  impulse 
to  bolt  as  he  shook  me  by  the  hand,  so  hot  was  his 
and  so  dry,  and  so  feverishly  it  gripped  me. 

"  You're  sure  no  one  tracked  ye  here?  "  he  asked, 
as  he  closed  the  door  behind  us. 

"  There  was  a  barber,  sir,  at  the  head  of  the  pas- 
sage.    I  stopped  to  ask  him  the  way." 

"  He's  all  right,  or  would  be  but  for  that  cursed 

bird  of  his.     How  a  man  can  keep  such  a  bird " 

Captain  Coffin  broke  off.  "  I  had  a  two-three  nails 
in  my  mouth  when  you  knocked.  Kearly  made  me 
swallow  'em,  you  did.     They  was  copper  nails,  too." 

I  suppose  I  must  have  stared  at  this,  for  he  paused 
and  peered  at  me,  drawing  me  over  to  the  window, 
through  which — so  thickly  grimed  it  was — a  very 
little  light  dribbled  from  the  courtyard  into  the 
room.  Yet  the  room  itself  was  clean,  almost  spick 
and  span,  with  a  seaman-like  tidiness  in  all  its  ar- 
rangements— a  small  room,  crowded  with  foreign 
odds-and-ends,  among  which  I  remember  a  walking- 
stick  even  more  singular  than  the  one  Captain  Coffin 
carried  on  his  walks  abroad  (it  was  white  in  color, 
with  lines  of  small  gray  indentations,  and  he  after- 
wards told  me  it  was  a  shark's  backbone);  a  corner- 
cupboard,  too,  painted  over  with  green-and-yellow 
tulips. 

"  Copper  nails,  I  tell  you.    Nothing  but  the  best'U 

41 


poisojST  island 

do  for  your  friend  Coffin."  He  leaned  back,  still 
eying  me,  and  tapped  me  twice  on  the  chest.  "  You 
heard  me  say  that?    '  Your  friend  '  was  my  words." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

"  But  you  made  me  jump,  you  did — me  being  that 
way  given  when  off  the  liquor."  He  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, with  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  at  the  tulip- 
painted  cupboard.  "  Brooks,"  he  went  on  earnestly, 
"  you  and  me  being  met  on  a  matter  of  business,  and 
the  same  needin'  steadiness — head  and  hand,  my 
boy,  if  ever  business  did — what  d'ye  say  to  a  tot  of 
rum  apiece  ? " 

Without  waiting  for  my  answer  he  glided  off  to 
the  cupboard,  with  a  stealthy  motion,  and  had  set  two 
classes  on  the  table  and  brimmed  them  with  neat 
spirit  before  I  had  finished  protesting.  The  bottle- 
neck trembled  on  the  rims  of  the  glasses,  and  struck 
out  a  sort  of  chime  as  he  paused. 

"You  won't?"  he  asked,  gulping  down  his  own 
portion;  and  the  liquor  must  have  been  potent,  for 
it  brought  a  sudden  water  to  his  eyes.  "  Well,  so  be 
it — if  you've  kept  off  it  at  your  age.  But  at  mine  " 
— he  drank  off  the  second  glassful  and  wiped  his 
mouth — "  I've  had  experiences.  Brooks.  When 
you've  heard  'em,  you  wouldn't  be  surprised,  not  if 
it  took  a  dozen  to  steady  me." 

He  filled  again,  and  came  close  to  me,  holding  the 

42 


THE    WHALEBOAT 

glass,  yet  so  tremulously  that  the  rum  spilled  over 
his  fingers. 

"  Ingots,  lad — golden  ingots !  Bars  and  wedges 
of  solid  gold !  Gems,  too,  and  cath-e-deral  plate,  with 
crucifixions  and  priests'  vestments  stiff  with  pearls 
and  rubies  as  if  they  was  frozen.  I've  seen  'em  lyin' 
tossed  in  a  heap  like  mullet  in  a  ground-net.  Ay, 
and  blazin'  on  the  beach,  with  the  gulls  screamin^ 
over  'em  and  flappin',  and  the  sea  all  around.  I  seen 
it  with  these  eyes,  boy!  "  He  stood  back  and  shiv- 
ered. "And  behind  o'  that,  the  Death!  But  it 
comes  equal  to  all,  the  Death.  Not  if  a  man  had 
learned  every  trick  the  devil  can  teach  could  he  lay 
his  course  clear  o'  that.     Could  he,  now?  " 

His  words,  his  uncouth  gestures,  which  were 
almost  spasms,  and  the  changes  in  his  face — from 
cupidity  to  terror,  and  from  terror  again  to  a  kind 
of  wistful  hope — fairly  frightened  me,  and  I  stam- 
mered stupidly  that  death  was  the  common  lot, 
and  there  couldn't  be  a  doubt  of  it;  that  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort.  But  what  I  said  does  not  matter. 
He  was  not  listening,  and  before  I  had  done  he 
drained  and  set  down  the  glass  and  gripped  my 
arm  again. 

"  I  seen  all  that — ay,  an'  felt  it !  "  He  drew  away 
and  stretched  out  both  hands,  crooking  his  fingers 
like  talons.     "Ay,  an'  I  seen  /lim/" 

43 


POISON    ISLAND 

"  Him  ?  "  I  echoed.     "  But  you  were  talking  of 

Death,  sir." 

"  You   may   call   him   that.      There's  men   lyin' 

around  in  the  sand Did  ever  you  hear,  boy,  of 

a  poison  called  antimony?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  It  kills  'em,  lad — kills  'em  and  turns  'em  gray. 
What's  more,  it  preserves  'em.  The  first  heap  as 
ever  I  dug,  believin'  it  to  he  the  treasure — my  reck- 
oning was  out  by  a  foot  or  two — I  came  on  one  o' 
them.  Three  foot  beneath  the  sand  I  came  on  him, 
an'  the  gulls  sheevoing  all  the  while  over  my  head. 
They  knew.  And  the  sea  and  the  dreadful  loneliness 
around  us  all  the  while.  There  was  three  of  us, 
Brooks — I  mention  no  names,  you  understand — 
three  of  us^  and  him.  Three  to  one.  Yet  he  got  the 
better  of  us  all — as  he  got  the  better  of  the  first  lot, 
and  they  must  ha'  been  a  dozen.  Four  of  them  we 
uncovered  afore  we  struck  the  edge  of  the  treasure 
— uncovered  'em  and  covered  'em  up  again  pretty 
quick,  I  can  tell  you.  Presh  as  paint  they  were,  in 
a  manner  o'  speaking,  just  as  though  they'd  died 
yesterday;  whereas  by  Melhuish's  account  they  must 
ha'  lain  there  for  years.  And  the  faces  on  'em  gray- 
white  and  shinin' " 

Here  Captain  Coffin  shivered,  and,  glancing  about 
him  nervously,  poured  out  another  go  of  rum. 

44 


THE    WHALEBOAT 

"  You  wouldn't  blame  me  for  wantin'  it,  Brooks 
— not  if  you'd  seen  'em.  That  was  on  the  Keys,  as 
they're  called — half  a  dozen  banks  to  no'thard  of 
the  island,  and  maybe  from  half  a  mile  to  three- 
quarters  off  the  shore,  which  shoals  thereabout — 
sand,  all  the  lot  of  'em,  and  nothin'  but  sand;  sand 
and  sea-birds,  and — what  I  told  you.  But  the  bulk 
lies  in  the  island  itself,  in  two  caches ;  and  where  the 
bigger  cache  lies  he  don't  know,  and  nobody  knows 
but  only  Dan  Coffin." 

Captain  Coffin  winked,  touched  his  breast,  and 
wagged  his  forefinger  at  me  impressively. 

"  That  makes  twice,"  he  went  on.  "  Twice  that 
devil  has  got  the  better  of  every  one.  But  the  third 
time's  lucky,  they  say.  He  may  be  dead  afore  this; 
he'll  be  getting  an  oldish  man,  anyway,  and  life  on 
that  cursed  island  can't  be  good  for  his  health.  We 
won't  go  in  a  crowd  this  time,  neither;  not  a  dozen, 
nor  yet  four  of  us,  but  only  you  an'  me,  Brooks.  It's 
the  safer  way — the  only  safe  way — an'  there'll  be 
the  fatter  sharin's.  Now  you  know — hey? — why 
Branscome's  givin'  me  lessons  in  navigation." 

He  chuckled,  and  was  moving  off  mysteriously  to 
a  back  doorway  behind  the  dresser,  but  halted  and 
came  back  to  the  table. 

"  Look  ye  here.  Brooks,"  said  he.  "  If  there's 
anything  you  don't  get  the  hang  of — anything  that 

45 


POISOX    ISLAND 

takes  ye  aback,  so  to  speak,  in  what  I'm  tellin'  you 
— you  just  hitch  on  an'  trust  to  old  Dan  Coffin;  to 
old  Dan,  as'll  do  for  you  more  than  ever  your  god- 
fathers an'  godmothers  did  at  your  baptism.  You'll 
pick  up  a  full  breeze  as  you  go  on.  Man,  the  treas- 
ure's there !  Man,  I've  handled  it,  or  enough  of  it 
to  keep  you  in  a  coach-an'-six,  with  nothing  to  do 
but  loll  on  cushions  for  the  rest  o'  your  days,  an' 
pick  your  teeth  at  the  crowd.  And  look  ye  here." 
He  waved  a  hand  around  the  room.  "  I'm  old 
Danny  Coffin,  ain't  I?  poor  old  drunken  Danny 
Coffin,  eh?  Yet  cast  an  eye  about  ye.  Nice  fittin's, 
ben't  they?  Hitch  down  my  coat  off  the  peg  there; 
feel  the  cloth  of  it;  take  it  between  finger  and 
thumb.  Ay,  I  don't  live  upon  air,  nor  keep  house 
an'  fixtures  upon  nothin'  at  all.  There — if  you  want 
more  proof!  "  lie  dived  a  hand  into  his  trouser- 
pocket,  and  held  out  a  golden  coin  under  my  nose. 
"  There !  that  very  dollar  came  from  the  island,  and 
I'm  offerin'  you  the  fellows  to  it  by  the  thousand. 
Why?  says  you.  Because,  says  I,  you're  a  good  lad, 
and  I've  took  a  fancy  to  see  you  in  Parlyment. 
That's  why.  An'  it's  no  return  I'm  askin'  you,  but 
just  to  believe!  " 

He  made  for  the  back-door  again,  and  opened  it, 
letting  in  the  sunlight;  but  the  sunlight  fell  in  two 
slanting  rays,  one  on  either  side  of  a  dark  object, 

46 


THE    WHALEBOAT 

which  all  but  filled  the  entrance,  blocking  out  my 
view  of  the  back-court  beyond — the  stern  of  a  tall 
boat. 

The  boat,  in  fact,  filled  the  small  back-court,  leav- 
ing an  alley-way  scarcely  more  than  two  feet  wide 
along  either  party-wall.  She  rested  on  the  stocks, 
about  three-parts  finished,  in  shape  very  like  a  whale- 
boat,  and  in  measurement — so  Captain  Coffin  in- 
formed me,  with  a  proprietary  wave  of  the  hand — 
some  twenty-six  feet  over  all,  with  a  beam  of  nine 
feet  six  inches  amidships.  And  even  to  a  boy's  eye 
she  showed  herself  a  pretty  model,  though  (as  I  say) 
unfinished,  with  a  foot  and  more  of  her  ribs  standing 
up  bare  and  awaiting  the  top-strakes. 

"  Designed  her  myself,  Brooks.  Eh,  but  your 
friend  Dan'l  Coffin  has  an  eye  for  the  shape  of  a 
boat,  though  no  hand  at  pencilling,  nor  what  you 
might  call  the  cabinet-making  part  of  the  job. 
There's  a  young  carpenter  lives  up  the  court  here — 
a  cleverish  fellow.  I  got  him  to  help  me  over  the 
niceties,  you  understand;  but  on  my  lines,  lad. 
Climb  up  and  cast  your  eye  over  the  well  I've  put 
in  her.  That's  for  the  treasure;  and  there'll  be  side- 
lockers  round  the  stern-sheets,  and  a  locker  forward 
big  enough  to  hold  a  man.  The  fellow  don't  guess 
their  meanin',  an'  I  don't  let  him  guess.  He  thinks 
they're  for  air-compartments,  to  keep  her  buoyant; 

47 


POISOIsr    ISLAND 

says  she'll  need  more  ballast  than  I've  allowed  her, 
and  wants  to  know  what  sense  there  is  in  buildin' 
a  boat  so  floatey.  We'll  ballast  her,  Brooks;  all  in 
good  time.  We'll  ship  her  aboard  the  Kingston 
packet,  bein'  of  a  size  that  she'll  carry  comfortable 
as  deck-cargo;  and  soon  as  we  get  to  Kingston 
we'll " 

"  Avast  there,  cap'n !  "  interrupted  a  cheerful 
voice;  and  I  glanced  up,  to  see  a  sandy-haired  youth 
with  an  extremely  good-natured  face  nodding  at  us 
across  the  coping  of  the  party-wall.  "  Avast  there! 
Busy  with  visitors,  eh?  No?  Well,  I've  been 
thinkin'  it  over,  and  I'll  take  sixpence  an  hour." 

"  I  don't  give  a  ha'penny  over  fippence,"  answered 
Captain  Coffin,  patently  taken  aback  by  the  inter- 
ruption. 

"  Fivepence,  then,  as  a  pro-temporary  accommo- 
dation," said  the  youth,  and,  throwing  a  leg  over  the 
Avail,  heaved  himself  over  and  into  the  back-yard. 
"But  it's  taking  advantage  of  me;  and  you  know 
that  if  I  weren't  in  love  and  in  a  hurry  it  wouldn't 
happen." 

"  You  can  take  fippence,  or  go  to  the  devil!  "  said 
Captain  Coffin.  "  By  the  way.  Brooks,  this  is  my  as- 
sistant, Mr.  George  Goodfellow." 


48 


CHAPTER   VI 

MY    riKST    GLIMPSE    OF    THE    CHART 

"  Good-day,"  said  Mr.  George  Goodfellow,  nod- 
ding affably.     "  I  hope  I  see  you  well." 

"  Pretty  well,  thank  you,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"  And  where  might  you  come  from,  makin'  so 
bold?" 

I  told  him  that  I  was  a  boarder  at  Mr.  Stimcoe's. 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Goodfellow,  taking  off  his  coat 
and  extracting  a  pencil  and  a  two-foot  rule  from  its 
pocket,  "  I'm  sorry  for  you.  What  a  female !  "  He 
chose  out  a  long  and  flexible  plank  from  a  stack  laid 
lengthwise  in  the  alley-way  along  the  base  of  the 
wall,  lifted  it,  set  it  on  three  trestles,  and  began  to 
measure  and  mark  it  off.  "  She's  calculated  to  de- 
stroy one's  belief  in  human  nature,  that's  what  she 
is!  Fairly  knocks  the  gilt  off.  Sometimes  I  can't 
hardly  realize  that  she  and  Martha  belong  to  the 
same  sex.    Martha  is  my  young  woman." 

"Yes,  sir?" 

"  Yes.     At  present  she's  living  in  Plymouth,  as- 

49 


POISON    ISLAND 

sistant  in  a  ham-and-beef  shop,  as  you  turn  down  to 
the  Barbican.  That's  her  conscientiousness,  instead 
of  sitting  at  home  and  living  on  her  parents.  Don't 
tell  me  that  women — by  which  I  mean  some  women 
— ain't  the  equals  of  men." 

"  Because,"  continued  Mr.  Goodfellow  after  a 
pause,  "  I  know  better.     Ever  been  to  Plymouth  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Live  there?" 

"  No,  sir." 

He  seemed  to  be  disappointed. 

"  You  go  past  the  bottom  of  Treville  Street,  and 
there  the  shop  is,  slap  in  front  of  you.  You  can't 
miss  it,  because  it  has  a  plaster-of-Paris  cow  in  the 
window,  and  the  proprietor's  called  Mudge.  I  go  to 
Plymouth  every  w^eek  on  purpose  to  see  her." 

"  By  coach,  sir? "  I  asked,  suddenly  interested, 
and  eager  to  compare  notes  with  him  on  the  Royal 
Mail  and  its  rivals,  the  Self -Defence  and  Highflyer. 

"Coach?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Shank's  mare,  my  boy, 
every  step  of  the  way;  and  Martha's  worth  it. 
That's  the  best  of  bein'  in  love ;  it  makes  you  want 
to  do  things.  By  the  way,"  he  asked,  "  you  ain't 
thinkin'  to  learn  the  violin,  by  any  chance?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  No,"  he  said  reflectively.  "  You  wouldn't — not 
at  Stimcoe's.      Not — mind  you — that  I  believe   in 

50 


FIRST    GLIMPSE    OF    THE    CHART 

coddling.  iSTobody  ever  coddled  Xelson,  and  yet 
what  happened?  "  He  shut  one  eye,  put  his  pencil  to 
it  for  an  imaginary  telescope,  and  took  a  nautical 
survey  of  the  back  premises. 

"  That  rain-chute's  out  of  order,"  he  said,  address- 
ing Captain  Coffin.  "  Give  me  a  shilling  to  put  it 
right  for  you,  and  you'll  save  yourself  a  lot  of 
trouble." 

"  That's  the  landlord's  affair,"  answered  Captain 
Coffin,  "  and  I'm  not  paying  you  fippence  an  hour  to 
talk." 

"  But,  sir,"  I  put  in,  "  if  you  walk  to  Plymouth 
you  must  pass  the  house  where  I  live — a  low-roofed 
house  about  three  miles  this  side  of  St.  Germans  vil- 
lage, with  windows  opening  right  on  the  road,  and 
'  Minden  Cottage  '  painted  over  the  door." 

"  Know  it?  Bless  my  soul,  to  be  sure  I  know  it! 
Why,  the  last  time  but  one  I  passed  that  way,  taking 
note  that  one  of  the  window-hinges  was  out  of  gear, 
I  knocked  and  asked  leave  to  repair  it.  A  lady  with 
side-curls  opened  the  door,  and  after  the  job  was 
done  took  me  into  the  parlor  an'  gave  me  a  jugful  o' 
cider  over  and  above  the  sixpence  charged.  I  be- 
lieve she'd  have  made  it  a  shillin',  too,  only  when  I 
told  her  she  lived  in  a  very  pretty  house,  and  asked 
if  she  owned  it  or  rented  it,  she  turned  very  stiff  in 
her  manner.    Touchy  as  tinder  she  was;  and  if  that 

51 


POISON    ISLAND 

comes  of  being  a  lady,  I'm  glad  my  Martha's  more 
sociable." 

"  That  was  Plinny — Miss  Plinlimmon,  I  mean. 
You  didn't  catch  sight  of  my  father?  Brooks,  he's 
called — Major  Brooks." 

"  No,  I  didn't.  But  I  stopped  to  pass  the  time  o' 
day  with  the  landlord  of  the  Seven  Stars  Inn,  a  mile 
along  the  road,  and  there  I  heard  about  'em.  So 
you're  Major  Brooks's  son  ?  Well,  then,  by  all  ac- 
counts you've  got  a  thunderin'  good  father.  Old 
English  gentleman,  straight  as  a  ramrod — pays  his 
way,  fears  God  and  honors  the  King — such  was  the 
landlord's  words;  and  he  told  me  the  cottage,  as  you 
call  it,  was  rented  at  twenty-five  pounds  a  year,  with 
a  walled  garden  an'  a  paddock  thrown  in,  which  I 
call  dirt  cheap." 

"  I  don't  see  that  it's  any  business  of  yours  what 
my  father  pays  for  his  house!  "  said  I,  my  flush  of 
pleasure  changing  to  one  of  annoyance. 

I  glanced  round  for  Captain  Coffin's  support,  but 
he  had  walked  indoors,  no  doubt  in  despair  of  Mr. 
Goodfellow's  loquacity. 

"No?"  queried  Mr.  Goodfellow.  "No,  I  dare 
say  not;  but  you  just  wait  till  you  fall  in  love.  It's 
a  most  curious  feelin'.  First  of  all  it  makes  you  want 
to  pull  off  your  coat  and  turn  a  hand  to  anything, 
from  breakin'  stones  to  playing  the  fiddle — it  don't 

52 


FIRST    GLIMPSE    OF    THE    CHART 

matter  what,  so  long  as  you  sweat  an'  feel  you're 
earnin'  money.  Why,  just  take  a  look  at  my  busi- 
ness card."  He  stepped  to  his  coat,  pulled  one  from 
his  pocket,  and  glanced  over  it  proudly :  "  '  George 
Goodfellow,  Carpenter  and  Decorator  —  Cabinet 
Making  in  all  its  Branches — Repairs  neatly  executed 
— Funerals  and  Shipping  supplied — Practical  Val- 
uer, and  for  Probate — Fire  Office  claims  prepared 
and  adjusted — Good  Berths  booked  on  all  the  Pack- 
ets, and  guaranteed  by  personal  inspection — Boats 
built  and  designed — Instruction  in  the  Violin — Old 
instruments  cleaned  and  repaired,  or  taken  in  ex- 
change— Rowboat  for  hire.'  There,  put  it  in  your 
pocket  and  take  it  away  with  you.  I've  plenty  more 
in  my  desk. 

"  That's  what  it  feels  like,  bein'  in  love,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Goodfellow.  "  And,  next  thing,  it  makes 
you  take  a  tremenjous  interest  in  houses — houses  an' 
furnicher  an'  the  price  o'  things — right  down  to 
butter,  as  you  might  say.  I  never  see  a  house,  now 
— leastways,  a  house  that  takes  my  fancy — but  I 
want  to  be  measuring  it  an'  planning  out  the  fur- 
nicher, an'  the  rent,  an'  where  to  stow  the  firewood, 
an'  sitting  down  cosy  in  it  along  with  Martha — in 
the  mind's  eye,  as  you  may  say — one  on  each  side 
o'  the  fire,  an'  makin'  two  ends  meet.  I  pity  any 
man  that  ends  a  bachelor."    He  glanced  towards  the 

53 


POISOX   ISLAND 

house.     "  By  the  way,  how  do  you  get  along  with 
Coffin?" 

"  He — he  seems  very  kind." 

"  'Tisn'  his  way  with  boys,  as  a  rule."  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  tapped  his  forehead  significantly  with  the  end 
of  his  two-foot  rule,  and  nodded.  "  Upper  story," 
he  announced. 

"You  think  so?" 

"  Sure  of  it.  Cracked  as  a  bell.  Not,"  said  Mr. 
Goodfellow,  picking  up  a  saw  and  making  ready  to 
cut  the  plank  lengthwise  to  his  measurements,  "  not 
that  there's  any  harm  in  the  man  until  he  runs  foul 
of  the  drink.  The  tale  is,  he  gets  his  money  out  o' 
Government — a  sort  of  pension.  "Was  mixed  up  in 
the  Spithead  Mutiny,  by  one  account,  an'  turned  in- 
former; but  there's  another  tale  he  earned  it  by 
some  hanky-panky  over  in  Lisbon,  when  the  Royal 
Family  there  packed  up  traps  from  the  Brazils; 
and  that's  the  story  I  favor,  for,  between  you 
and  me,  I've  seen  Portugal  money  in  his  posses- 
sion. 

So,  indeed,  had  I.  But  Captain  Coffin  himself  cut 
short  the  talk  at  this  point  by  appearing  and  an- 
nouncing from  the  back  doorstep  that  he  had  a  treat 
for  me  if  I  would  come  inside. 

The  treat  consisted  in  a  dish  of  tea — a  luxury  in 
those  times,  rarely  afforded  even  at  Minden  Cottage 

54 


FIRST    GLIMPSE    OF    THE    CHART 

— and  a  pot  of  guava-jelly,  with  Cornish  cream  and 
a  loaf  of  white,  wheaten  bread.  Such  bread,  I  need 
scarcely  say,  with  wheat  at  140s.  a  quarter,  or  there- 
abouts, never  graced  the  table  of  Copenhagen  Acad- 
emy. But  the  dulcet,  peculiar  taste  of  guava-jelly  is 
what  I  associate  in  memory  with  that  delectable 
meal;  and  to  this  day  I  cannot  taste  the  flavor  of 
guava  but  I  find  myself  back  in  Captain  Coffin's 
sitting-room,  cutting  a  third  slice  from  the  wheaten 
loaf,  with  the  corals  and  shells  of  mother-of-pearl 
winking  at  me  from  among  the  china  on  the  dresser, 
and  Captain  Coffin  seated  opposite,  with  the  silver 
rings  in  his  ears,  and  his  eyes  watching  me,  very 
white  in  the  dusk  and  distinct  within  their  inflamed 
rims. 

"  Nothing  like  tea,"  he  was  saying;  "  nothing  like 
tea  to  pull  a  man  round  from  the  drink,  and  cock  him 
back  like  a  trigger." 

His  right  hand  was  at  his  breast  as  he  spoke.  It 
came  out  swiftly,  as  upon  a  sudden  impulse.  His 
left  hand  closed  upon  it  and  partly  covered  it  for  a 
moment ;  and  with  that,  as  I  reached  towards  the  pot 
of  guava-jelly,  I  saw  the  two  hands  spread  apart  and 
disclose  an  oilskin  case. 

"Brooks!"  he  whispered  hoarsely.  "Brooks, 
look  at  this!  " 

His  fingers  plucked  at  the  oilskin  wrapper,  uncov- 

55 


POISON   ISLAND 

ered  it,  unfolded  an  inner  parcel  of  parchment,  and, 
trembling,  spread  it  open  on  the  table. 
1  leaned  closer,  and  this  is  what  I  saw: 


1  M    6    B.    T   H-ETT- 


O"'^'^ 


B  AT     OF     HON.D  U  RAJ 


I    J  ''S'  7   T.  n~V. 


Twice,  while  I  leaned  across  and  stared  at  it,  Cap- 
tain Coffin's  fingers  all  but  closed  over  the  parch- 

56 


FIRST    GLIMPSE    OF    THE    CHART 

ment  to  hide  it  from  me.  The  afternoon  light  was 
falling  dim,  and  I  stood  up  to  walk  aromid  the  edge 
of  the  table  for  a  better  look.  As  I  pushed  back  my 
chair  he  clutched  his  treasure  away  and  hid  it  again 
in  the  breast  of  his  jumper,  at  the  same  moment  fall- 
ing back  and  passing  a  hand  over  his  damp  forehead. 

"  jN'o,  no.  Brooks !  You  mustn't  think —  Only 
you  took  me  sudden.  But  my  promise  I've  passed, 
and  my  promise  I'll  stand  by.  Come  again  to- 
morrow, lad." 

Outside  in  the  back  yard  I  could  hear  Mr.  Good- 
fellow,  the  slave  of  love,  sawing  for  dear  life  and 
Martha. 


57 


CHAPTER    VII 

ENTER    THE    KETUKNED    PKISONEB 

Strange  to  say,  although  I  paid  six  or  eight  vis- 
its after  this  to  Captain  Coffin,  and  by  invitation, 
and  watched  his  whaleboat  building,  and  ate  more 
of  his  delectable  guava-jelly,  I  saw  nothing  more  of 
the  chart  for  several  months. 

On  each  occasion  he  treated  me  kindly,  and  made 
no  secret  of  his  having  chosen  me  for  his  favorite 
and  particular  friend;  but  somehow,  without  any 
words,  he  contrived  to  set  up  an  understanding  that 
further  talk  about  the  chart  and  the  treasure  must 
wait  until  the  boat  should  be  ready  for  launching. 
The  truth  is,  I  believe,  that  a  kind  of  superstitious 
terror  restricted  him;  that  he  trusted  me,  yet  was 
afraid  of  overt  signs  of  trust.  You  may  put  it  that 
during  this  while  he  was  testing,  watching  me.  I 
can  only  ansAver  that  I  had  no  suspicion  of  being 
watched,  and  that  in  discussing  the  boat's  fittings 
with  me — her  tanks,  wells,  and  general  storage  ca- 
pacity— he  took  it  for  granted  that  I  followed  and 
understood  her  purpose.     If  indeed  he  was  testing 

58 


ENTER  THE  RETUENED  PRISONER 

me  I  took  in  my  innocence  the  best  way  to  reassure 
him;  for  I  honestly  looked  upon  the  whole  business 
as  moonshine,  and  made  no  doubt  that  he  was 
cracked  as  a  fiddle. 

Christmas  came,  and  the  holidays  with  it.  As 
Miss  Plinlimmon  sang: 

Welcome,  Christmas!    Welcome,  Yule! 
It  brings  the  schoolboy  home  from  school. 

[N.  B. — Vulgarly  pronounced  "schule"  in  the  West  of 

England.] 
Puddings  and  mistletoe  and  holly, 
With  other  contrivances  for  banishing  melancholy: 
Boar's  head,  for  instance — of  which  I  have  never  partaken. 
But  the  name  has  festive  associations  denied  to  ordinary  bacon. 

Dear  soul,  she  had  been  waiting  at  the  door — so 
Sally,  the  cook,  informed  me — for  about  an  hour, 
listening  for  the  coach,  and  greeted  me  with  a  tremu- 
lous joy  between  laughter  and  tears.  Before  leading 
me  to  my  father,  however,  she  warned  me  gravely 
enough  that  I  should  find  him  changed;  and  changed 
he  was,  albeit  less  perhaps  in  appearance  than  in  the 
perceptible  withdrawal  of  his  mind  from  all  earthly 
concerns.  He  seldom  spoke,  but  sat  all  day  immo- 
bile, with  the  lids  of  his  blind  eyes  half  lowered,  so 
that  it  was  hard  to  tell  whether  he  brooded  or  merely 
dozed.  On  Christmas  Day  he  excused  himself  from 
walking  to  church  with  us,  and  upon  top  of  his  ex- 

59 


POISON    ISLAND 

ciise  looked  up  with  a  sudden  liappy  smile  —  as 
though  his  eyes  really  saw  us — and  quoted  Waller's 
famous  lines: 

"The  soul's  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decay 'd, 
Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  time  hath  made.  .  .  ." 

To  me  it  seemed  rather  that,  as  its  home  broke  up, 
the  soul  withdrew  little  by  little,  and  contracted  itself 
like  the  pupil  of  an  eye,  to  shrink  to  a  pinpoint  or 
suddenly  vanish  in  the  full  admitted  ray. 

This  our  last  Christmas  at  Minden  Cottage  was  a 
quiet  yet  a  singularly  happy  one.  It  was  good  to  be 
at  home,  yet  the  end  of  the  holidays  and  the  return 
to  Stimcoe's  cast  no  anticipative  gloom  on  my  spir- 
its. To  tell  the  truth,  I  had  a  sneaking  affection  for 
Stimcoe's;  and  to  Miss  Plinlimmon's  cross-examina- 
tion upon  its  internal  economies  I  opposed  a  careless, 
manly  assurance  as  hardily  fraudulent  as  Mr.  Stim- 
coe's brazen  doorplate  or  his  lady's  front-window 
curtains.  The  careful  mending  of  my  linen,  too — 
for  Mrs.  Stimcoe  with  all  her  faults  was  a  needle- 
woman —  helped  to  disarm  suspicion.  When  we 
talked  of  my  studies  I  sang  the  praises  of  Captain 
Branscome,  and  told  of  his  past  heroism  and  his 
sword  of  honor. 

"Branscome?  Branscome,  of  the  'London- 
derry '  ? "  said  my  father.     "  Ay,  to  be  sure,  I  re- 

60 


Ei\^TER   THE    RETUENED   PRISONER 

member  Branscome — a  God-fearing  fellow  and  a 
good  seaman.  You  may  take  him  back  my  compli- 
ments, Harry — my  compliments  and  remembrances 
— and  say  that  if  Heaven  permitted  us  to  meet  again 
in  this  world,  nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleas- 
ure than  to  crack  a  bottle  with  him." 

I  duly  reported  this  to  Captain  Branscome,  and 
was  taken  aback  by  his  reception  of  it.  He  began 
in  a  sudden  flurry  to  ask  a  dozen  questions  concern- 
ing my  father: 

"  He  keeps  good  health,  I  trust  ?  It  would  be  an 
honor  to  call  and  chat  with  the  Major.  At  what 
hour  would  he  be  most  accessible  to  visitors  ?  " 

I  stared;  for  in  truth  he  seemed  ready  to  take  me 
at  my  word  and  start  off  at  once,  and  at  my  patent 
surprise  he  grew  yet  more  nervous  and  confused. 

"  I  have  kept  a  regard  for  your  father.  Brooks — 
a  veneration,  I  might  almost  call  it.  Sailors  and 
soldiers,  if  I  may  say  it,  are  not  apt  to  think  too  well 
of  one  another;  but  the  Major  from  the  first  fulfilled 
my  conception  of  all  a  soldier  should  be — a  gentle- 
man fearless  and  modest,  a  true  Christian  hero. 
Minden  Cottage,  you  say?  And  fronting  the  road 
a  little  this  side  of  St.  Germans?  Tell  me,  pray — 
and  excuse  the  impertinence — what  household  does 
he  keep?  " 

It  is  hard  to   write  down   Captain  Branscome's 

61 


POISOX    ISLAND 

questions  on  paper,  and  divest  them,  as  his  gentle 
face  and  hesitating,  kindly  manner  divested  them,  of 
all  offensiveness.  I  did  not  resent  them  at  the  time 
or  consider  them  impertinent.  But  they  were  cer- 
tainly close  and  minute,  and  I  had  reason  before  long 
to  recall  every  detail  of  his  catechism. 

Captain  Coffin,  on  the  other  hand,  welcomed  me 
back  to  Falmouth  with  a  carelessness  which  disap- 
pointed if  it  did  not  nettle  me.  He  fetched  out  the 
tea  and  guava-jelly,  to  be  sure,  but  appeared  to  take 
no  interest  in  my  doings  during  the  holidays,  and 
was  uncommunicative  on  his  own.  This  seemed  the 
stranger  because  he  had  important  news  to  tell  me. 
During  my  absence  he  and  Mr.  Goodfellow  between 
them  had  finished  the  whaleboat. 

The  truth  was — though  I  did  not  at  once  perceive 
it — that  upon  its  completion  the  old  man  had  begun 
to  drink  hard.  Drink  invariably  made  him  morose, 
suspicious.  His  real  good-will  to  me  had  not 
changed,  as  I  was  to  learn.  He  had  paid  a  visit  to 
Captain  Branscome,  and  given  him  special  instruc- 
tions to  teach  me  the  art  of  navigation,  the  intrica- 
cies of  which  eluded  his  own  fuddled  brain.  But  for 
the  present  he  could  only  talk  of  trivialities,  and  es- 
pecially of  the  barber's  parrot,  for  which  he  had  con- 
ceived a  ferocious  hate. 

"  I'll  wring  his  neck,  I  will !  "  he  kept  repeating. 

62 


ENTER   THE   RETURNED    PRISONER 

"  I'll  wring  his  neck  one  o'  these  days,  blast  me  if 
I  don't!" 

I  took  my  leave  that  evening  in  no  wise  eager  to 
repeat  the  visit;  and  in  fact  I  repeated  it  but  twice — 
and  each  time  to  find  him  in  the  same  sullen  humor 
— between  then  and  May  11th,  the  day  when  the 
"  Wellingboro'  "  transport  cast  anchor  in  Ealmoutli 
roads  with  two  hundred  and  fifty  returned  prisoners 
of  war. 

She  had  sailed  from  Bordeaux  on  April  20tli,  in 
company  with  five  other  transports  bound  for  Plym- 
outh; and  her  putting  into  Ealmouth  to  repair  her 
steering-gear  came  as  a  surprise  to  the  town,  which 
at  once  hung  out  all  its  bunting  and  prepared  to  wel- 
come her  poor  passengers  home  to  England  with 
open  arms.  A  sorry  crew  they  looked,  ragged,  wild- 
eyed,  and  emaciated,  as  the  boats  brought  them 
ashore  at  the  Market  Stairs  to  the  strains  of  the  Fal- 
mouth Artillery  Band.  The  homes  of  the  most  of 
them  lay  far  away,  but  England  was  England;  and 
a  many  wept  and  the  crowd  wept  with  them  at  sight 
of  their  tatters,  for  I  doubt  if  they  mustered  a  com- 
plete suit  of  good  English  cloth  between  them. 

Stimcoe,  I  need  scarcely  say,  had  given  us  a  whole 
holiday;  and  Stimcoes  and  Rogerses  met  in  amity 
for  once,  and  cheered  in  the  throng  that  carried  the 
home-comers  shoulder  high  to  the  Town  Hall,  where 

63 


POISOI^    ISLAND 

the  Mayor  had  arrayed  a  public  banquet.  There 
were  speeches  at  the  banquet,  and  alcoholic  liquors, 
both  affecting  in  operation  upon  his  Worship's 
guests.  Poor  fellows,  they  came  to  the  feast  after 
long  abstinence,  with  stomachs  sadly  out  of  training; 
and  the  streets  of  Falmouth  that  evening  were  a  pan- 
oramic lesson  on  the  dangers  of  undiscriminating 
charity. 

Now,  at  about  five  o'clock  I  happened  to  be  stand- 
ing on  the  edge  of  the  Market  Stairs,  watching  the 
efforts  of  a  boat's  crew  to  take  a  dozen  of  these  ine- 
briates on  board  for  the  transport,  when  I  heard  my 
name  called,  and  turned  to  see  Mr.  George  Good- 
fellow  beckoning  to  me  from  the  doorway  of  the 
Plume  of  Feathers  public-house.  His  gestures  were 
insistent. 

"  It's  Coffin,"  he  explained.  "  The  old  fool's  sit- 
ting in  the  taproom  as  drunk  as  an  owl,  and  I  was 
reckonin'  that  you  an'  me  between  us  might  get  him 
home  quiet  before  the  house  fills  up  an'  mischief  be- 
gins; for  by  the  looks  of  it  there'll  be  Newgate-let- 
loose  in  Falmouth  streets  to-night." 

I  answered  that  this  was  very  thoughtful  of  him; 
and  he  agreed  it  was  providential  that  he  had 
dropped  in  at  the  Plume  of  Feathers  for  twopenny- 
worth  of  cider  to  celebrate  the  day. 

We  found  Captain  Coffin  seated  in  a  corner  of 

64 


ENTER   THE   RETURNED   PRISONER 

the  taproom  settle,  puffing  at  an  empty  pipe  and 
staring  at  vacancy.  "  Drunk  as  an  owl  "  described 
his  condition  to  a  nicety;  for  at  a  certain  stage  in 
his  drinking  all  the  world  became  mirk  midnight  to 
him,  and  he  would  grope  his  way  home  through  the 
traffic,  at  high  noon,  in  profound,  pathetic  belief  that 
darkness  and  slumber  wrapped  the  streets;  on  which 
occasions  the  dialogue  between  him  and  the  barber's 
parrot  might  be  counted  on  to  touch  high  comedy. 
I  knew  this,  and  knew  also  that  in  the  next  stage  he 
would  recover  his  eyesight,  and  at  the  same  time  turn 
dangerously  quarrelsome.  If  Mr.  Goodfellow  and  I 
could  escort  him  home  quietly,  he  would  have  reason 
to  thank  us  to-morrow. 

We  were  bending  over  him  to  persuade  him — at 
first,  with  small  success;  for  he  continued  to  stare 
and  mutter,  as  our  voices  coaxed  without  penetrating 
his  muddled  intelligence — when  a  party  of  'long- 
shoremen staggered  into  the  taproom,  escorting  one 
of  the  returned  prisoners,  a  thin,  sandy-haired,  foxy- 
looking  man,  with  narrow  eyes  and  a  neck  remark- 
able for  its  attenuation  and  the  number  and  depth 
of  its  wrinkles.  This  neck  showed  above  the  greasy 
collar  of  a  red  infantry  coat,  from  which  the  badges 
and  buttons  had  long  since  vanished;  and  for  the 
rest  the  fellow  wore  a  pair  of  dirty  white  drill  trous- 
ers   of    French    cut,    French    shoes,    and    a    round 

65 


POISON    ISLAND 

japanned  hat;  but,  so  far  as  a  glance  could  discover, 
neither  shirt  nor  underclothing.  When  the  'long- 
shoremen called  for  drink  he  laughed  with  a  kind  of 
happy  shiver,  as  though  rubbing  his  body  round  the 
inside  of  his  clothes,  cast  a  quick  glance  at  us  in  our 
dim  comer,  and  declared  for  rum,  adding  that  the 
Mayor  of  Falmouth  was  a  well-meaning  old  swab, 
but  his  liquor  wouldn't  warm  the  vitals  of  a  baby 
in  clouts. 

As  he  announced  this  I  fancied  that  our  persua- 
sions began  to  have  effect  on  Captain  Coffin,  for  his 
eyes  blinked  as  in  a  strong  light,  and  he  seemed  to 
pull  himself  together  with  a  shudder;  but  a  moment 
later  he  relapsed  again  and  sat  staring. 

"Hallo!"  said  one  of  the  'longshoremen, 
"Who's  that  you're  a-coaxin'  of,  you  two?  Old 
Coffin,  eh?  Well,  take  the  old  shammick  home,  an' 
thank  'ee.     We're  tired  of  'en  here." 

As  I  looked  up  to  answer  I  saw  the  returned  pris- 
oner give  a  start,  turn  slowly  about,  and  peer  at  us. 
He  seemed  to  be  badly  scared,  too,  for  an  instant; 
for  I  heard  a  sudden,  sharp  click  in  his  throat: 

"E-e-eh?  Coffin,  is  it?  Danny  Coffin?  Oh,  good 
Lord!" 

He  came  towards  our  corner,  still  peering,  and, 
as  he  peered,  crouching  so  that  he  spread  his  palms 
on  his  knees. 


ENTER   THE   RETURNED   PRISONER 

"  Coffin?  Danny  Coffin?  "  he  repeated,  in  a  voice 
that,  as  it  lost  its  wondering  quaver,  grew  tense  and 
wicked  and  wheedling. 

Captain  Coffin's  face  twitched,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  his  eyes,  though  rigid,  expanded  a  little. 
But  they  stared  into  the  stranger's  face  without  see- 
ing him. 

The  fellow  crouched  a  bit  lower,  and  still  lower, 
as  he  drew  close  and  thrust  his  face  gradually  within 
a  yard  of  the  old  man's. 

"  Shipmate  Danny — messmate  Danny — tip  us  a 
stave.     The  old  stave,  Danny: 

'"And  alongst  the  Keys  o'  Mortal-lone!'" 

As  his  voice  lifted  to  it  in  a  hoarse  melancholy 
minor  (time  and  again  since  that  moment  the  tune 
has  put  me  in  mind  of  sea-birds  crying  over  a  waste 
shore),  I  saw  the  shiver  run  across  Captain  Coffin's 
face  and  neck,  and  with  that  his  sight  came  back  to 
him,  and  he  bounced  upright  from  the  settle,  with  a 
horrible  scream,  his  hands  fencing,  clawing  at  air. 

The  prisoner  dropped  back  with  a  laugh.  Mr. 
Goodfellow,  at  a  choking  sound,  put  out  a  hand  to 
loosen  Captain  Coffin's  neckcloth;  but  the  old  man 
beat  him  off. 

"  Not  you!     Not  you! — Harry!  " 

He  gripped  me  by  the  arm,  and,  ducking  his  head, 

67 


POISOX    ISLAND 

fairly  charged  me  past  the  'longshoremen  and  out 
through  the  doorway  into  the  street.  As  we  gained 
it  I  heard  the  stranger  in  the  taproom  behind  me 
break  into  a  high,  cackling  laugh. 


68 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  HUNTED  AND  THE  HUNTEK 

All  the  drunkenness  had  gone  out  of  Captain 
Dannj.  Gripping  my  arm,  he  steered  me  rapidly 
through  the  knots  of  loafers,  up  Market  Strand  into 
the  crowded  Fore  Street,  across  it  and  up  the  hill 
towards  open  country,  taking  the  ascent  with  long 
strides  which  forced  me  now  and  again  into  a  run. 
Twice  or  thrice  I  glanced  up  at  his  face;  for  I  w^as 
scared,  and  badly  scared.  His  mouth  worked,  and  I 
observed  small  beads  of  sweat  on  his  shaven  upper 
lip ;  but  he  kept  his  eyes  fastened  straight  ahead,  and 
paid  no  heed  to  me. 

At  the  head  of  the  street  the  town  melted  off  into 
a  suburb  of  scattered  houses,  modest  domiciles  of 
£25  or  £30  rentals,  detached,  each  with  its  garden 
and  narrow  garden-door,  for  Falmouth  in  those  days 
boasted  few  carriage-folk.  He  paused  once  here- 
abouts, in  the  roadway  between  two  walls,  and  stood 
listening,  while  his  right  hand  trembled  on  his  stick ; 
but  presently  grippel  my  arm  again  and  hurried  me 
forward,  nor  halted  until  we  reached  the  summit,  and 

69 


POISON    ISLAND 

the  open  country  lay  before  us,  with  the  Channel  and 
its  long  horizon  on  our  left.  Here,  on  the  very  knap 
of  the  hill,  in  a  cornfield,  and  some  two  hundred 
yards  back  from  the  road,  stood  the  shell  of  an  old 
windmill,  overlooking  the  sea  —  deserted,  ruinous, 
without  sails,  a  building  many  hundreds  of  years 
older  than  the  oldest  house  in  Falmouth,  serving  now 
but  as  a  landmark  for  fishermen  and  on  Sundays  a 
rendezvous  for  courting  couples.  At  the  stile  lead- 
ing into  the  cornfield.  Captain  Coffin  released  me, 
climbed  over,  hurried  up  the  footpath  to  the  wind- 
mill, and,  having  satisfied  himself  that  the  building 
was  empty,  motioned  me  to  seat  myself  on  the  side 
where  its  long  shadow  pointed  down  across  a  bank  of 
nettles,  and  beyond  the  edge  of  the  green  young  bar- 
ley sheeting  the  slope  towards  the  harbor. 

"  Brooks,"  he  began — but  his  voice  rattled  like  a 
dried  pea  in  a  pod,  and  he  had  to  moisten  his  un- 
der-lip with  his  tongue  before  he  could  proceed — 
"  Brooks,  are  you  in  any  way  a  superstitious  kind  o' 
boy  ?  " 

"  That  dejiends,  sir,"  said  I  diplomatically. 

"  After  all  these  years,  too,"  he  groaned ;  "  an' 
agen'  all  likelihood  o'  natur'.  But  you  saw  him — 
hey  ?  You  heard  what  he  said,  an'  that  cussed  song, 
too  ?  Sang  it,  he  did ;  slapped  it  out  at  the  top  of 
his  voice  in  a  public  tavern.     I  tell  you.  Brooks — 

70 


THE  HUNTED  AND  THE  HUNTER 

knowin'  what  he  knows — a  man  must  have  all  hell 
runnin'  cold  in  him  to  sing  them  words  aloud  an' 
not  care  who  heard." 

"  Why,  he  sang  but  a  line  of  it/'  said  I,  "  and 
that  harmless  enough,  though  dismal." 

"  Is  that  so,  lad — is  that  so  ?  "  Captain  Danny 
put  out  a  hand  like  a  bird's  claw  and  hooked  me  by 
the  cuff.  "  Wasn'  there  nothing  in  it  about  Execu- 
tion Dock ;  nothing  about  ripe  medlars — '  medlars 
a-rottin'  on  the  tree  '  ?  No  ?  " — for  I  shook  my  head. 
"  Well,  then,  I  could  be  sworn  I  heard  him  sing- 
in'  them  words  for  minutes,  an'  me  sittin'  all  the 
while  wi'  the  horrors  on  me  afore  I  dared  look  in 
his  damned  face.  An'  you  tell  me  he  piped  but  a 
line  of  it  ?  "  His  eyes  searched  mine  anxiously. 
"  Brooks,"  he  went  on,  in  a  voice  almost  coaxing, 
"  I'd  give  five  hundred  pound  at  this  moment  if  you 
could  look  me  in  the  face  an'  tell  me  the  whole  scare 
was  nothing  but  fancy — ^that  he  wasn'  there !  " 

His  grasp  relaxed  as  I  shook  my  head  again. 
Despair  grew  in  his  eyes,  and  he  drew  back  his 
hand. 

"  I'll  put  it  to  you  another  way,"  said  he  after 
seeming  to  reflect  for  a  while.  "  Suppose  there  was 
a  couple  o'  men  mixed  up  in  an  ugly  job — by  which 
I  don't  mean  to  say  there  was  any  real  harm  in  the 
business ;  leastways  not  to  start  with ;  but,  as  it  went 


POISON    ISLAND 

on,  these  two  men  were  forced  to  do  something  that 
brought  them  wdthin  reach  o'  the  law.  We'll  put  it 
that,  when  the  thing  was  done,  the  one  o'  this  pair 
felt  it  heavy  upon  his  mind,  but  t'other  didn'  care 
no  more  than  a  brass  button;  an'  the  one  that  took 
it  serious — as  you  might  say — lost  sight  o'  the  other 
for  years,  an'  meantime  picked  up  with  a  little  re- 
ligion, an'  made  oath  with  hisself  that  all  the  profits 
o'  the  job  (for  there  were  profits)  should  come  into 
innecent  hands —    You  catch  on  to  this  ?  " 

I  nodded, 

"  Well,  then  " — he  leant  forward,  his  palm  rest- 
ing amid  a  bed  of  nettles;  he  did  not  appear  to  feel 
their  sting,  although,  while  he  spoke,  I  saw  the  back 
of  his  hand  whiten  slowly  w'ith  blisters — "  well,  then, 
you  can't  go  for  to  argue  with  me  that  the  A'mighty 
would  go  for  to  strike  the  chap  that  repented  by 
means  o'  the  chap  that  didn'.  'Tisn'  reasonable  nor 
religious  to  think  such  a  thing — is  it  now  ?  " 

"  He  might  punish  the  one  first,"  said  I  judi- 
cially, "  and  keep  the  other — the  wicked  man — for  a 
worse  punisliment  in  the  end.  A  great  deal,"  I 
added,  "  miglit  depend  on  what  sort  of  crime  they'd 
committed.     If  'twas  a  murder,  now " 

"  Murder  ?  "  He  caught  me  up  sharply,  and  his 
eyes  turned  from  watching  me,  to  throw  a  quick 
glance  back  along  the  footpath,  then  fastened  them- 


THE  HUNTED  AND  THE  HUNTER 

selves  on  the  horizon.  "  Who's  a-talkin'  of  any  such 
thing?" 

"  I  was  putting  a  case,  sir — putting  it  as  bad  as 
possible.  'Murder  will  out/  they  say;  but  with 
smaller  crimes  it  may  be  different." 

"  Murder  ?  "  He  sprang  up  and  began  to  pace  to 
and  fro.  "  How  came  that  in  your  head,  eh  ?  "  He 
threw  me  a  furtive  sidelong  look,  and  halted  before 
me,  mopping  his  forehead.  "  I'll  tell  you  what, 
though :  Murder  there'll  be  if  you  don't  help  me  give 
that  devil  the  slip." 

"  But,  sir,  he  never  offered  to  follow  you." 

"  Because  he  reckoned  I  couldn'  run — or  wouldn', 
as  I've  never  run  from  him  yet.  But,  with  you  in 
the  secret,  I  must  give  him  leg-bail,  no  matter  what 
it  costs  me.  And,  see  here.  Brooks:  you're  clever 
for  your  age,  an'  I  want  your  advice.  In  the  first 
place,  I  daren't  go  home ;  that's  where  he'll  be  watch- 
in'  for  me  sooner  or  later.  Next,  our  plans  ain't 
laid  for  startin'  straight  off — here  as  we  be — an' 
givin'  him  the  go-by.  Third  an'  last,  I  daren't  go 
carryin'  the  secret  about  with  me;  he  might  happen 
on  me  any  moment,  an'  I'm  not  in  trainin'.  The 
drink's  done  for  me,  boy;  whereas  he've  been  farin' 
hard  an'  livin'  clean."  Captain  Cofl5n,  with  his  hands 
deep  in  his  pockets,  stared  down  at  the  transport 
at  anchor  below,  and  bent  his  brows.     "  I  can't  turn 

73 


POISON    ISLAND 

it  over  to  you,  neither,"  he  mused.  "  That  might 
ha'  done  well  enough  if  he  hadn'  seen  you  in  my 
company ;  but  now  we  can't  trust  to  it.  " 

He  took  another  dozen  paces  forth  and  back,  and 
halted  before  me  again. 

"  Brooks,"  he  said,  "  how  about  your  father  ?  " 

"  The  very  man,  sir,"  I  answered ;  "  that  is,  if 
you  would  trust  him." 

"  Cap'n  Branscome  tells  me  he's  one  in  a  thou- 
sand. I  thought  first  o'  Branscome,  but  there's  folks 
as  know  about  my  goin'  to  him  for  navigation  les- 
sons; an'  if  Glass  got  hold  o'  that,  'twould  be  a  hot 
scent." 

"  Glass  ?  "  I  echoed. 

"  That's  his  damned  name,  lad — Aaron  Glass, 
though  he've  passed  under  others,  and  plenty  of  'em, 
in  his  time.  Well,  now,  if  I  can  slip  out  o'  Fal- 
mouth unbeknowns  to  him,  an'  win  to  your  father — 
on  the  Plymouth  road,  I've  heard  you  say,  and  a 
little  this  side  of  St.  Germans " 

"  You  might  walk  over  to  Penr^n  and  pick  up  the 
night  coach." 

Captain  Coffin  shook  his  head  as  he  turned  out 
his  pockets. 

"  One  shilling,  lad,  an'  two  ha'pennies.  It  won't 
carry  me ;  an'  I  daren'  go  home  to  refit,  an'  I  daren' 
send  7/OM." 

74 


THE  HUXTED  AND  THE  HUNTER 

"  I  could  take  a  message  to  Captain  Branscome," 
I  suggested,  "  and  he  might  fetch  you  the  money,  if 
you  tell  him  where  to  look  for  it." 

"  That's  an  idea,"  decided  Captain  Coffin,  after 
a  moment's  thought.  He  unbuttoned  his  waistcoat, 
dived  a  hand  within  the  breast  of  his  shirt,  and 
pulled  forth  a  key  looped  through  with  a  tarry 
string.  This  string  he  severed  with  his  pocket-knife. 
"  Run  you  down  to  the  cap'n's  lodgings,"  said  he, 
handing  me  the  key,  "  an'  tell  him  to  go  straight  an' 
unlock  the  cupboard  in  the  cornder — the  one  wi'  the 
toolips  painted  over  the  door.  You  know  it  ?  Well, 
say  that  on  the  second  shelf  he'll  find  a  small  bagful 
o'  money — he  needn't  stay  to  covmt  it —  an'  'pon  the 
same  shelf,  right  back  in  the  cornder,  a  roll  o'  papers. 
Tell  him  to  keep  the  papers  till  he  hears  from  me, 
but  the  bag  he's  to  give  to  you,  an'  you're  to  bring 
it  along  quick  with  the  key.  Mind,  you're  not  to 
go  with  him  on  any  account ;  an'  if  you  should  run 
against  this  Glass  on  your  way,  give  him  a  wide  berth 
— go  straight  home  to  Stimcoe's — do  anything  but 
lay  him  on  to  my  trail  by  comin'  back  to  tell  me. 
Understand  ?  There,  now,  hark  to  the  town  clock 
chimin'  below  there.  Six  o'clock  it  is — four  bells. 
If  you're  not  back  agen  by  seven  I  shall  know  what's 
happened  an'  take  steps  accordin'.  An'  you  II  know 
that  I'm  on  my  way  to  your  father  by  another  tack. 

75 


POISOX    ISLAND 

*  What  tack  ? '  says  you.  *  Never  you  mind,'  says  I. 
If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  old  Dan  Coffin  has 
a  shot  left  in  his  locker." 

I  took  the  key  and  ran.  The  alley  where  Captain 
Branscome  lodged  lay  a  gimshot  on  this  side  of  the 
Market  Strand ;  and  while  I  ran  I  kept — as  the  say- 
ing is — my  eyes  skinned  for  a  sight  of  the  enemy. 
The  coast,  however,  was  clear. 

But  at  Captain  Branscome's  door  a  wholly  unex- 
pected disappointment  awaited  me.  It  was  locked, 
and  I  had  not  hammered  twice  on  its  shining  brass 
knocker  before  a  neighboring  housewife  put  forth  her 
head  from  a  window  in  the  gathering  dusk  and  in- 
formed me  that  the  captain  was  not  at  home.  He 
had  gone  out  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  left  his 
door  key  with  her,  saying  that  he  was  off  on  a  visit, 
and  would  not  return  before  to-morrow  afternoon 
at  earliest.  For  a  moment  I  was  tempted  to  disobey 
Captain  Danny's  injunctions  and  fetch  the  money 
myself,  or  at  least  make  a  bold  attempt  for  it;  but, 
recollecting  how  earnestly  he  had  charged  me,  and 
how  cheerfully  at  the  last  he  had  assured  me  that  he 
had  still  a  shot  in  his  locker,  I  turned  and  mounted 
the  hill  again,  albeit  dejectedly. 

The  moon  was  rising  as  I  climbed  over  the  stile 
into  the  footpath,  and,  recognizing  my  footstep,  the 
old  man  came  forward  to  meet  me,  out  of  the  shadow 

76 


THE  HUNTED  AXD  THE  HUNTER 

on  the  western  side  of  the  windmill,  to  which  he  had 
shifted  his  watch. 

My  ill-success,  depressing  enough  to  me,  he  took 
very  cheerfully. 

"  I  was  afraid,"  said  he — and  my  conscience  smote 
me — "  you  might  be  foolin'  off  for  the  money  on  your 
own  account.  Gone  on  a  visit,  has  he?  Well,  you 
can  hand  him  the  key  to-morrow,  with  my  message. 
An'  now  I'll  tell  you  my  next  notion.  The  St. 
Mawes  packet  " — this  was  the  facetious  name  given 
to  a  small  cutter  which  plied  in  those  days  between 
Falmouth  and  the  small  village  of  St.  Mawes  across 
the  harbor — "  the  St.  Mawes  packet  is  due  to  start 
at  seven-thirty.  I  won't  risk  boardin'  her  at  Market 
Strand,  but  pick  up  a  boat  at  Arwennack,  an'  row 
out  to  hail  her  as  she's  crossin'.  She'll  pick  me  up 
easy,  wi'  this  wind ;  if  she  don't,  I'll  get  the  water- 
man to  pull  me  right  across.  Bogue,  the  landlord  of 
The  Lugger  over  there,  knows  me  well  enough  to 
lend  me  ten  shillin',  an'  wi'  that  I  can  follow  the 
road  through  Tregoney  to  St.  Austell,  an'  hire  a  lift." 

I  could  not  but  applaud  the  plan.  The  route  he 
proposed  cut  off  a  corner,  led  straight  to  Minden  Cot- 
tage, and  was  at  the  same  time  the  one  on  which  he 
was  least  likely  to  be  tracked.  We  descended  the  hill 
together,  keeping  to  the  dark  side  of  the  road.  At 
the  foot  of  the  hill  we  parted,  with  the  understanding 

77 


POISON    ISLAND 

that  I  was  to  rim  straight  home  to  Stimcoe's,  and  ex- 
plain my  absence  at  locking-iip — or,  as  Mr.  Stimcoe 
preferred  to  term  it,  "  names-calling " — as  best  I 
might. 

Thereupon  I  did  an  incredibly  foolish  thing, 
which,  as  it  proved,  defeated  all  our  plans  and  gave 
rise  to  unnumbered  woes.  I  was  already  late  for 
names-calling;  but  for  this  I  cared  little.  Stimcoe 
had  not  the  courage  to  flog  me ;  the  day  had  been  a 
holiday,  and  of  a  sort  to  excuse  indiscipline ;  and, 
anyway,  one  might  as  well  suffer  for  a  sheep  as  for 
a  lamb.  The  St.  Mawes  packet  would  be  lying  along- 
side the  Market  Strand.  The  moon  was  up  —  a 
round,  full  moon — and  directly  over  St.  Mawes,  so 
that  her  rays  fell,  as  near  as  might  be,  in  the  line 
of  the  cutter's  course,  which,  with  a  steady  breeze 
down  the  harbor,  would  be  a  straight  one.  From  the 
edge  of  Market  Strand  I  might  be  able  to  spy  Captain 
Cofhn's  boat  as  he  boarded.  Let  me,  without  ex- 
tenuating it,  be  brief  over  my  act  of  folly.  Instead 
of  making  at  once  for  Stimcoe's,  I  bent  my  steps 
towards  Market  Strand.  The  St.  Mawes  packet  lay 
there,  and  I  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  quay,  watching 
her  preparations  for  casting  off — the  skipper  clearing 
the  gangway  and  politely  helping  aboard,  between 
the  warning  notes  of  his  whistle,  belated  marketers 
who  came  running  with  their  bundles. 

78 


THE  HUNTED  AND  THE  HUNTER 

While  I  stood  there,  a  man  sauntered  out  and 
stood  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold  of  the  Plume  of 
Peathers.  It  was  the  man  Aaron  Glass,  and,  recog- 
nizing him,  I  (that  had  been  standing  directly  under 
the  light  of  the  quay-lamp)  drew  back  from  the  edge 
into  the  darkness.  I  had  done  better,  perhaps,  to 
stand  where  I  was.  How  long  he  had  been  observing 
me — if,  indeed,  he  had  observed  me — I  could  not  tell. 
But,  as  I  drew  back,  he  advanced  and  strolled  non- 
chalantly past  me,  at  five  yards  distance,  down  to 
the  quay-steps. 

"  All  aboard  for  St.  Mawes !  "  called  the  skipper, 
drawing  in  his  plank. 

"  All  but  one,  captain !  "  answered  Glass,  and, 
without  removing  his  hands  from  his  pockets,  put  a 
foot  upon  the  bulwark  and  sprang  lightly  on  to  her 
deck. 


79 


CHAPTER  IX 


CHAOS    IN    THE    CAPTAIn's    LODGINGS 


I  LEAVE  joii  to  guess  Avliat  were  my  feelings  as 
foot  by  foot  the  packet's  quarter  fell  away  wider  of 
the  quay.  If,  as  the  skipper  thrust  off,  I  had  found 
presence  of  mind  to  jump  for  her,  who  knows  what 
mischief  miglit  have  been  prevented  ?  I  could  at 
least  —  whatever  the  consequences  —  have  called  a 
warning  to  Captain  Coffin  to  give  his  enemy  a  wide 
berth.  But  I  was  unnerved ;  the  impulse  came  too 
late;  and  as  the  foresail  filled  and  she  picked  up 
steerage  way,  I  stood  helpless  under  the  lamp  at  the 
quay-head — stood  and  stared  after  her,  alone  with  the 
sense  of  my  incredible  folly. 

Somewhere  out  yonder  Captain  Coffin  was  waiting 
in  his  shore-boat.  I  listened,  minute  after  minute, 
on  the  chance  of  hearing  his  hail.  A  heavy  bank  of 
cloud  had  overcast  the  moon,  and  the  packet  melted 
from  sight  in  a  blur  of  darkness.  Worst  of  all — 
worse  even  than  the  sting  of  self-reproach — was  the 
prospect  of  returning  to  Stimcoe's  and  wearing 
through  the  night,  while  out  there  in  the  darkness  the 

80 


CHAOS    m    THE    CAPTAIN'S    LODGINGS 

two  men  would  meet,  and  all  that  followed  their  meet- 
ing must  happen  unseen  by  me. 

This  ordeal  appeared  so  dreadful  to  me  in  prospect 
that  I  hegan  to  cast  about  among  all  manner  of  im- 
practicable plans  for  escaping  it.  Of  these  the  most 
promising — although  I  had  no  money — was  to  give 
the  Stimcoes  leg-bail  and  run  home ;  the  most  allur- 
ing, too,  since  it  offered  to  deaden  the  torment  of  un- 
certainty by  keeping  me  employed,  mind  and  body. 
I  must  follow  the  coach-road.  In  imagination  I 
measured  back  the  distance.  If  George  Goodfellow 
walked  to  Plymouth  and  back  once  a  week,  why  might 
not  I  succeed  in  walking  to  Minden  Cottage  ?  Home 
was  home.  I  should  get  counsel  and  comfort  there ; 
counsel  from  my  father  and  comfort  most  assuredly 
from  Plinny.  I  needed  both,  and  in  Falmouth  just 
now  there  was  none  of  either.  Even  Captain  Brans- 
come,  who  might  have  helped  me 

At  this  point  a  sudden  thought  fetched  me  up 
with  a  jerk.  The  enemy,  by  pursuing  after  Captain 
Danny,  had  at  least  left  me  a  clear  coast.  I  was  safe 
for  a  while  against  his  spying,  and  consequently  the 
embargo  was  off.  I  had  no  need  to  wait  for  morning 
to  deliver  the  message  to  Captain  Branscome.  I 
could  go  myself  to  Coffin's  lodgings,  unlock  the  cor- 
ner-cupboard, and  bring  away  the  roll  of  papers. 

I  dived  my  hand  into  my  breech-pocket  for  the 

81 


POISON    ISLAND 

forgotten  key.  It  was  small,  and  of  a  curious,  in- 
tricate pattern.  Almost  before  my  fingers  closed 
upon  it  my  mind  was  made  up.  Stimcoe's — that  is, 
if  I  decided  to  return  to  Stimcoe's — might  wait. 
I  might  yet  decide  to  break  ship  —  as  Captain 
Danny  would  have  put  it — and  make  a  push  for 
home;  but  that  decision,  too,  must  wait.  Meanwhile, 
here  was  an  urgent  errand,  and,  against  all  expecta- 
tion, a  clear  coast  for  it;  here  was  occupation  and 
inexpressible  relief.  It's  an  ill  wind  that  blows 
nobody  some  good. 

I  set  off  at  a  run.  On  my  way  I  met  and  passed 
half  a  dozen  gangs  of  hilarious  ex-prisoners  and 
equally  hilarious  townsmen  escorting  them  to  the 
waterside,  where  the  coxswains  of  the  transport's 
boats  were  by  this  time  blowing  impatient  calls  on 
their  whistles.  But  the  upj)er  end  of  the  street  was 
wellnigh  deserted.  A  dingy  oil  lantern  overhung 
the  pavement  a  few  yards  from  the  ope,  and  above 
the  ope  the  barber's  parrot  hung  silent,  with  a  shawl 
flung  over  its  cage.  I  dived  into  the  dark  passage, 
and,  stumbling  my  way  to  Captain  Danny's  door, 
found  that  it  gave  easily  to  my  hand. 

For  a  moment  I  paused  on  the  threshold,  striving 
to  remember  where  he  kept  his  tinder-box  and 
matches.  But  the  room  was  small,  I  knew  the  geog- 
raphy of  it,  and  could  easily — I  told  myself — grope 

82 


CHAOS    IN    THE    CAPTAIN'S    LODGIXGS 

mj  "way  to  the  corner,  find  the  cupboard,  and,  feeling 
for  the  keyhole,  insert  the  key.  I  was  about  to  essay 
this  when  the  thought  occurred  to  me  that,  as  Cap- 
tain Danny  had  left  the  door  on  tlie  latch,  so  very 
likely,  with  equal  foresight,  he  had  placed  his  tinder- 
box  handy — on  the  table,  it  might  be.  I  put  out  my 
hand  in  the  direction  where,  as  I  recollected,  the  table 
stood.  It  reached  into  empty  darkness.  I  took  an- 
other step  and  gToped  for  the  table  with  both  hands. 
Still  darkness,  nothing  but  darkness !  I  took  yet 
another  step  and  struck  my  foot  against  a  hard  object 
on  the  floor ;  and,  as  I  bent  to  examine  this,  something 
sharp  and  exceeding  painful  thrust  itself  into  my 
groin — a  table-leg,  upturned. 

Recovering  myself,  I  passed  a  hand  over  it.  Yes, 
undoubtedly  it  was  a  table-leg  and  the  table  lay  topsy- 
turvy. But  how  came  it  so  ?  Who  had  upset  it,  and 
why  ?  I  took  another  step,  sideways,  and  my  boot 
struck  against  something  light  and,  by  its  sound, 
hollow  and  metallic.  Stooping  very  cautiously — for 
by  this  time  I  had  taken  alarm  and  was  holding  my 
breath — I  passed  a  hand  lightly  over  the  floor.  My 
fingers  encountered  the  object  I  had  kicked  aside.  It 
was  a  tinder-box.  I  clutched  it  softly,  and  as  softly 
drew  myself  upright  again.  Could  I  dare  to  strike 
a  light  ?  The  overturned  table — what  could  be  the 
meaning  of  it?     It  could  not  have  been  overturned 

83 


rOTSOX    ISLAND 

by  Captain  Coftiii.  By  whom  then  ?  Some  one  must 
have  visited  the  lodgings  in  his  absence. 

Some  one,  for  anght  I  knew,  was  in  the  room  at 
this  moment !  Some  one,  back  there  against  the  wall, 
waiting  only  for  me  to  strike  a  light !  I  declare  that 
at  the  thought  I  came  near  to  screaming  alond,  cast- 
ing the  tinder-box  from  me  and  rushing  out  blindly 
into  the  court. 

I  dare  say  that  I  stood  for  a  couple  of  minutes,  mo- 
tionless, listening  not  with  my  ears  only  but  with  every 
hair  of  my  head.  Xevertheless,  my  wits  must  have 
been  working  somehow ;  for  my  first  action,  when  I 
plucked  up  nerve  enough  for  it,  was  an  entirely  sen- 
sible one.  I  set  the  tinder-box  on  the  floor  between 
my  heels,  and,  feeling  for  tlie  table,  righted  it  very 
cautiously ;  then,  picking  up  the  box  again,  set  it  on 
the  table  and  twisted  off  the  lid.  I  found  flint  and 
steel  at  once,  dipped  my  fingers  into  the  box  to  make 
sure  of  the  tinder  and  the  brimstone  matches,  and  so, 
after  another  pause  to  listen,  essayed  to  strike  out 
the  spark. 

This,  for  a  pair  of  trembling  hands,  proved  no  easy 
business,  and  at  first  promised  to  be  a  hopeless  one. 
But  the  worst  moment  arrived  when,  the  spark  struck, 
I  stooped  to  blow  it  upon  the  tinder,  the  glow  of 
which  must  light  up  my  own  face  while  it  revealed 
to  me  nothing  of  the  surrounding  darkness.     Still, 

84 


CHAOS    m    THE    CAPTAIN'S    LODGINGS 

it  had  to  be  done ;  and,  keeping  a  tight  hold  on  what 
little  remained  of  my  courage,  I  thrust  in  the  match 
and  ignited  it. 

While  the  brimstone  caught  fire  and  bubbled  I 
drew  myself  erect  to  face  the  worst.  But  for  what 
met  my  eyes  as  the  flame  caught  hold  of  the  stick, 
even  the  overturned  table  had  not  prepared  me. 

The  furniture  of  the  room  lay  pell-mell  as  though 
a  cyclone  had  swept  through  it.  The  very  pictures 
hung  askew.  Of  the  drawers  in  the  dresser  some  had 
been  pulled  out  bodily,  others  stood  half  open,  and 
all  had  been  ransacked ;  while  the  fragments  of  china 
strewn  along  the  shelves  or  scattered  across  the  floor, 
could  only  be  accounted  for  by  some  blind  ferocity 
of  destruction  —  a  madman  for  instance,  let  loose 
upon  it  and  striking  at  random  with  a  stick.  As  the 
match  burned  low  in  my  fingers  I  looked  around 
hastily  for  a  candle,  scanning  the  dresser,  the  mantel- 
shelf, the  hugger-mugger  of  linen,  crockery,  wall  or- 
naments, lying  in  a  trail  along  the  floor.  But  no 
candle  could  I  discover ;  so  I  lit  a  second  match  from 
the  first  and  turned  towards  the  sacred  cupboard  in 
the  corner.     The  cupboard  was  gone ! 

I  held  the  match  aloft,  and  stared  at  the  angle  of 
the  wall ;  stared  stupidly,  at  first  unable  to  believe. 
Yes,  the  cupboard  was  gone !  Nothing  remained 
but  the  mahogany  bracket  which  had  supported  it. 

85 


POISON   ISLAND 

I  gazed  around,  the  match  burning  lower  and  lower 
in  my  hand  till  it  scorched  my  fingers.  The  pain 
of  it  awakened  me,  and,  dropping  the  charred  end,  I 
stumbled  out  into  the  passage,  almost  falling  on  the 
way  as  my  feet  entangled  themselves  in  Captain 
Coffin's  best  tablecloth. 

A  moment  later  I  was  rapping  at  Mr.  George  Good- 
fellow's  door.  I  knew  that  he  sometimes  sat  up  late 
to  practise  his  violin-playing;  and  in  my  confusion 
of  terror  I  heeded  neither  that  the  house  was  silent 
nor  that  the  window  over  his  doorway  showed  a  blank 
and  unlit  face  to  the  night.  I  knocked  and  knocked 
again,  pausing  to  call  his  name  urgently,  at  first  in 
hoarse  whispers,  by  and  by  desperately,  lifting  my 
voice  as  loudly  as  I  dared. 

At  length  a  voice  answered ;  but  it  came  from  the 
end  of  the  passage  next  the  street,  and  it  was  not  Mr. 
Goodfellow's. 

"  D — n  my  giblets !  "  it  said  in  a  kind  of  muffled 
scream.     "  Drunk  again !     Oh,  you  nasty  image !  " 

It  was  the  barber's  accursed  parrot.  I  could  hear 
it  tearing  with  its  beak  at  the  bars  of  its  cage,  as  if 
struggling  to  pull  off  the  cloth  which  covered  it. 

A  window  creaked  on  its  hinges,  some  way  vi])  the 
court. 

"  Hallo !     Who's  there  ?  "  demanded  a  gruff  voice. 

I  took  to  my  heels,  and  made  a  dash  up  the  pass- 

86 


CHAOS    IN    THE    CAPTAIN'S    LODGINGS 

age  for  the  street.  The  cage,  as  I  passed  under  it, 
swayed  violently  with  the  parrot's  struggles  for  free 
speech. 

"  Drunk  again !  "  it  yelled.  "  Kiss  me,  kiss  me, 
kiss  me — here's  a  pretty  time  o'  night  to  disturb  a 

lady!" 

No  longer  had  I  any  thought  of  braving  the  night 
and  the  perils  of  the  road,  but  pressed  my  elbows 
tight  against  my  ribs  and  raced  straight  for  Stimcoe's. 


87 


CHAPTER  X 

NEWS 

By  great  good  fortune,  Mr.  Stimcoe  had  been 
drinking  the  health  of  the  returned  prisoners  imtil 
his  own  was  temporarily  affected.  In  fact,  as  I 
reached  Delamere  Terrace,  panting  and  excogitating 
the  likeliest  excuse  to  offer  Mrs.  Stimcoe,  the  door 
of  ]^o.  7  opened,  and  the  lady  herself  emerged  upon 
the  night,  with  a  shawl  swathed  carelessly  over  her 
masculine  neck  and  shoulders. 

I  drew  up  and  ducked  aside  to  avoid  recognition, 
but  she  halted  under  the  lamp  and  called  to  me,  in 
no  very  severe  voice: 

"Harry!" 

"Yes,  ma'am!" 

"  You  are  late,  and  I  have  been  needing  you.  Mr. 
Stimcoe  is  suffering  from  an  attack." 

"  Indeed,  ma'am  ?  "  said  I.  "  Shall  I  run  for  Dr. 
Spargo  ?  " 

She  stood  for  a  moment  considering.  "  No,"  she 
decided ;  "  I  had  better  fetch  Dr.  Spargo  myself. 
Being  more  familiar  with  the  symptoms,  I  can  de- 
scribe them  to  him." 

88 


NEWS 

More  familiar  with  the  symptoms,  poor  woman, 
she  undoubtedly  was,  though  I  was  familiar  enough ; 
and  so,  for  that  matter,  was  the  doctor,  whose  ledger 
must  have  registered  at  least  a  dozen  similar  "  at- 
tacks." But  I  understood  at  once  her  true  reason 
for  not  entrusting  me  with  the  errand.  It  would 
require  all  her  courage,  all  her  magnificent  impu- 
dence, to  browbeat  Dr.  Spargo  into  coming,  for  I 
doubt  if  the  Stimcoes  had  ever  paid  him  a  stiver. 

"  But  you  can  be  very  useful,"  she  went  on,  in  a 
tone  unusually  gentle.  "  You  will  find  Mr.  Stimcoe 
in  his  bedroom — at  least,  I  hope  so,  for  he  suffers 
from  a  hallucination  that  some  person  or  persons  un- 
known have  incarcerated  him  in  a  French  war-prison, 
such  being  the  effect  of  to-day's — er — proceedings 
upon  his  highly  strung  nature.  The  illusion  being 
granted,  one  can  hardly  be  surprised  at  his  resent- 
mg  it. 

I  nodded,  and  promised  to  do  my  best. 

"  You  are  a  very  good  boy,  Harry,"  said  Mrs. 
Stimcoe — a  verdict  so  different  from  that  which  I 
had  arrived  expecting,  or  with  any  right  to  expect, 
that  I  stood  for  some  twenty  seconds  gaping  after 
her  as  she  pulled  her  shawl  closer  and  went  on  her 
heroic  way. 

I  found  Mr.  Stimcoe  in  deshabille  on  the  first-floor 
landing,  under  the  derisive  surveillance  of  Masters 

89 


POISON    ISLA.XD 

Dogg}^  Bates,  Bob  Pilkington,  and  Scotty  Maclean, 
whose  graceless  mirth  echoed  down  to  me  from  the 
stair-rail  inmiediatelj  overhead.  Ignoring  my  pre- 
ceptor's invitation  to  bide  a  wee  and  take  a  cup  of 
kindness  yet  for  aiild  lang  syne,  I  ran  up  and 
knocked  tlicir  heads  together,  kicked  them  into  the 
dormitory,  turned  the  key  on  their  reproaches,  and — 
these  preliminaries  over — descended  to  grapple  with 
the  situation. 

]\Ir.  Stimcoe,  in  night  garments,  was  conducting 
a  dialogue  in  which  he  figured  alternately  as  the 
tyrant  and  the  victim  of  oppression.  In  the  character 
of  ISTapoleon  Bonaparte  he  had  filled  a  footbath  with 
cold  water,  and  was  commanding  the  Rev.  Philip 
Stimcoe  to  strip — as  he  put  it — to  the  teeth,  and  im- 
merse himself  forthwith.  As  the  Pev.  Philip  Stim- 
coe, patriot  and  martyr,  he  was  obstinately,  and  with 
even  more  passion,  refusing  to  do  anything  of  the 
kind,  and  for  the  equally  cogent  reasons  that  he  was 
a  Protestant  of  the  Protestants,  and  that  the  water 
had  cockroaches  in  it. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Stimcoe  to  me,  "  if  you 
present  yourself  as  Alexander  of  Russia,  there  is  no 
more  to  be  said,  always  provided  " — and  here  he  re- 
moved his  nightcap  and  made  me  a  profound  bow — 
"  that  your  credentials  are  satisfactory." 

Apparently  they  were.     At  any  rate,  I  prevailed 

90 


NEWS 

on  him  to  return  to  his  room,  when  he  took  mj  arm, 
and,  seating  himself  on  the  bedside,  recited  to  me 
the  paradigms  of  the  more  anomalous  Greek  verbs 
with  great  volubility  for  twenty  minutes  on  end — 
that  is  to  say,  until  Mrs.  Stimcoe  returned  with  the 
doctor  safely  tucked  under  her  wing. 

At  sight  of  me  seated  in  charge  of  the  patient.  Dr. 
Spargo — a  mild  little  man — lifted  his  eyebrows. 

"  Surely,  madam — "  he  began  in  a  scandalized 
tone. 

"  This  is  Harry  Brooks."  Mrs.  Stimcoe  intro- 
duced me  loftily.  "  If  you  wish  him  to  retire,  be 
kind  enough  to  say  so,  and  have  done  with  it.  Our 
boarders,  I  may  say,  have  the  run  of  the  house — it 
is  part  of  Mr.  Stimcoe's  system.  But  Harry  has 
too  much  delicacy  to  remain  where  he  feels  himself 
de  trop.     Harry,  you  have  my  leave  to  withdraw." 

I  obeyed,  aware  that  the  doctor — who  had  pushed 
his  spectacles  high  upon  his  forehead — was  following 
my  retreat  with  bewildered  gaze.  As  I  expected,  no 
sooner  had  I  regained  the  dormitory  than  my  fellow- 
boarders — forgetting  their  sore  heads,  or,  at  any  rate, 
forgiving — began  to  pester  me  with  a  hundred  ques- 
tions. I  had  to  repeat  the  punishment  on  Doggy 
Bates  before  they  suffered  me  to  lie  down  in  quiet. 

But  the  interlude,  in  itself  discomposing,  had  com- 
posed my  nerves  for  the  while.     I  expected  no  sleep ; 

91 


POISON    ISLAND    ' 

had,  indeed,  an  hour  ago,  deemed  it  impossible  I 
should  sleep  that  nijjht.  Yet,  in  fact,  my  head  was 
scarcely  on  the  pillow  before  I  slept,  and  slept  like 
a  top. 

The  town  clock  awoke  me,  striking  four.  To  the 
far  louder  sound  of  Scotty  Maclean's  snoring,  in  the 
bed  next  to  mine,  I  was  case-hardened.  I  lay  for 
a  second  or  two  counting  the  strokes,  then  sprang  out 
of  bed,  and  running  to  the  window,  drew  wide  the 
curtain.  The  world  was  awake,  the  sun  already  clear 
above  the  hills  over  St.  Just  pool,  and  all  the  harbor 
twinkling  with  its  rays.  My  eyes  searched  the 
stretch  of  water  between  me  and  St.  Mawes,  as  though 
for  flotsam — anything  to  give  me  news,  or  a  hint  of 
news. 

For  many  minutes  I  stood  staring — needless  to 
say,  in  vain — and  so,  the  morning  being  chilly,  crept 
back  to  bed  with  the  shivers  on  me. 

Two  hours  later,  in  the  midst  of  my  dressing,  I 
looked  out  of  the  window  again,  and  saw  the  St. 
Mawes  packet  reaching  across  towards  Falmouth 
merrily,  quite  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  Yet 
something — I  told  myself — must  have  happened, 
and  that  something  a  tragedy. 

The  Copenhagen  Academy  enjoyed  a  holiday  that 
day,  for  Captain  Branscome  failed  to  present  him- 
self,  and  Mr.   Stimcoe  lay  under  the  influence  of 

93 


NEWS 

sedatives.  At  eleven  in  the  morning  he  awoke,  and 
began  to  discuss  the  character  of  Talleyrand  at  the 
pitch  of  his  voice.  Its  echoes  reached  me  where  I 
sat  disconsolate  in  the  deserted  school-room,  and  I 
went  upstairs  to  the  bedroom  door  to  offer  my 
services.  Doggy  Bates,  Pilkington,  and  Scotty  Mac- 
lean had  hied  them  immediately  after  breakfast 
to  the  harbor,  to  beg,  borrow,  or  steal  a  boat  and  fish 
for  mackerel;  and  Mrs.  Stimcoe,  worn  out  with 
watching,  set  down  my  faithful  presence  to  motives 
of  which  I  was  shamefully  innocent.  In  point  of 
fact,  I  had  lurked  at  home  because  I  could  not  bear 
company.  I  preferred  the  deserted  schoolroom, 
though  Heaven  knows  what  I  would  not  have  given 
for  the  dull  distraction  of  work — an  hour  of  Rule  of 
Three  with  Captain  Branscome,  or  Caesar's  Com- 
mentaries with  Mr.  Stimcoe.  But  Mr.  Stimcoe  lay 
upstairs  chattering,  and  Captain  Branscome  ap- 
peared to  be  taking  a  protracted  holiday.  It  hardly 
occurred  to  me  to  wonder  why. 

It  was  borne  in  upon  me  later  that  during  this  in- 
terval of  anarchy  in  the  Stimcoe  establishment — it 
lasted  two  days,  and  may  have  lasted  longer  for 
aught  I  know — I  wasted  little  wonder  on  the  con- 
tinued absence  of  Captain  Branscome.  I  was  indeed 
kept  anxious  by  my  own  fears,  which  did  not  de- 
crease as  the  hours  dragged  by.     From  the  window 

93 


POTSOX    ISLAND 

of  Mr.  Stimcoe's  sick-room  I  watched  the  St.  Mawes 
packet  plying  to  and  fro.  I  had  a  mind  to  steal  down 
to  the  Market  Strand  and  interrogate  her  skipper.  I 
had  a  mind — and  laid  more  than  one  plan  for  it — to 
follow  up  my  first  impulse  of  bolting  for  home  to 
discover  if  Captain  Coffin  had  arrived  there.  But 
Mrs.  Stimcoe,  misinterpreting  my  eagerness  to  be 
employed,  had  by  this  time  enlisted  me  into  full 
service  in  the  sick-room.  We  took  the  watching  turn 
and  turn  about,  in  spells  of  three  hours'  duration.  I 
was  held  committed,  and  could  not  desert  without  a 
brand  on  my  conscience.  The  disgusting  feature  of 
this  is  that  I  was  almost  glad  of  it,  at  the  same  time 
longing  to  run,  and  feeling  that  this,  in  a  way,  ex- 
onerated me. 

At  about  seven  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  sec- 
ond day,  while  I  sat  by  Mr.  Stimcoe's  bedside,  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  front  door;  and,  looking  out 
of  the  window — for  Mrs.  Stimcoe  had  gone  to  bully 
another  sedative  out  of  the  doctor,  and  there  was  no 
one  in  the  house  to  admit  a  visitor — I  saw  Captain 
Branscome  below  me  on  the  doorstep. 

"  Hallo !  "  said  I,  as  cheerfully  as  I  might,  for 
Mr.  Stimcoe  was  awake  and  listening. 

"Is — is  that  Harry  Brooks?"  asked  Captain 
Branscome,  stepping  back  and  feeling  for  his  gold- 
rimmed  glasses.     By  some  chance  he  was  not  wear- 

94 


NEWS 

ing  them,  and,  after  fumbling  for  a  moment,  he 
gazed  up  towards  the  window,  blinking.  Folk  who 
habitually  wear  glasses  look  unnatural  without  them. 
Captain  Branscome's  face  looked  unnatural.  It  was 
pale,  and  for  the  moment  it  seemed  to  me  to  be 
almost  a  face  of  fright;  but  a  moment  later  I  set 
down  its  pallor  to  weariness. 

"  Mrs.  Stimcoe  has  gone  off  to  the  doctor,"  said 
I,  "  and  Mr.  Stimcoe  is  sick,  and  I  am  up  here  nurs- 
ing him.  There  is  no  one  to  open,  but  you  can  give 
me  a  message." 

"  I  just  came  up  to  make  sure  you  were  all  right." 

"  If  you  mean  Stim — Mr.  Stimcoe,  he's  bet- 
ter, though  the  doctor  says  he  won't  be  able  to 
leave  his  bed  for  days.  How  did  you  come  to  hear 
about  it  ?  " 

"  I've  heard  nothing  about  Mr.  Stimcoe,"  an- 
swered Captain  Branscome,  after  a  hesitating  pause. 
"  I've  been  away — on  a  holiday.  Nothing  wrong 
with  you  at  all? "  he  asked. 

I  could  not  understand  Captain  Branscome. 
Why  on  earth  should  he  be  troubling  himself  about 
my  state  of  health? 

"Nothing  happened  to  upset  you?"  he  asked. 

I  looked  down  at  him  sharply.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  and  as  the  reader  knows,  a  great  deal  had  hap- 
pened to  upset  me,  but  that  any  hint  of  it  should 

95 


POISON    ISLAND 

have  reached  Captain  Branscome  was  in  the  highest 
degree  unlikely,  and  in  any  case  I  could  not  discuss 
it  with  him  from  an  upstairs  window  and  in  my  pa- 
tient's hearing.  So  I  contented  myself  with  asking 
him  where  he  had  spent  his  holiday. 

The  question  appeared  to  confuse  him.  He 
averted  his  eyes  and,  gazing  out  over  the  harbor, 
muttered — or  seemed  to  mutter,  for  I  could  not 
catch  the  answer  distinctly — that  he  had  been  visit- 
ing some  friends;  and  so  for  a  moment  or  two  we 
waited  at  a  deadlock.  Indeed,  there  is  no  knowing 
how  long  it  might  have  lasted — for  Captain  Brans- 
come  made  no  sign  of  turning  again  and  facing  me; 
but,  happening  just  then  to  glance  along  the  terrace, 
I  caught  sight  of  Mrs.  Stimcoe  returning  with  long 
masculine  strides. 

She  held  an  open  letter  in  her  hand,  and  was 
perusing  it  as  she  came. 

"  It's  for  you,"  she  announced,  coming  to  a  stand- 
still under  the  window  and  speaking  up  to  me  after 
a  curt  nod  towards  Captain  Branscome — '^  from  Miss 
Plinlimmon;  and  you'd  best  come  down  and  hear 
what  it  says,  for  it's  serious." 

I  should  here  explain  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stimcoe 
made  a  practice  of  reading  all  letters  received  or 
despatched  by  us.     It  was  a  part  of  the  system. 

"  I  picked  it  up  at  the  post-office  on  my  way,"  she 

9G 


NEWS 

explained,  as  I  presented  myself  at  the  front  door 
and  put  out  a  hand  for  the  letter.  "  Look  here, 
Harry:  I  know  you  to  be  a  brave  boy.  You  must 
pull  yourself  together,  and  be  as  brave  as  ever  you 
can.     Your  father " 

"  What  about  my  father?  "  I  asked,  taking  the  let- 
ter and  staring  into  her  face.  "  Has  anything  hap- 
pened?   Is  he — is  he  dead?  " 

Mrs.  Stimcoe  lifted  her  hand  and  lowered  it 
again,  at  the  same  moment  bowing  her  head  with  a 
meaning  I  could  not  mistake.  I  gazed  dizzily  at 
Captain  Branscome,  and  the  look  on  his  face  told  me 
— I  can't  tell  you  how — that  he  knew  what  the  letter 
had  to  tell,  and  had  been  expecting  it.  The  hand- 
writing was  indeed  Miss  Plinlimmon's,  although  it 
ran  across  the  paper  in  an  agitated  scrawl  most  un- 
like her  usual  neat  Italian  penmanship. 

My  dearest  Harry, — You  must  come  home  to  me  at  once, 
and  by  the  first  coach.  I  cannot  tell  you  what  has  happened 
save  this — that  you  must  not  look  to  see  your  father  alive. 
We  dwell  in  the  midst  of  alarms  which  A.  Selkirk  preferred  to 
the  solitude  of  Juan  Fernandez ;  but  in  this  I  differ  from  him 
totally,  and  so  will  you  when  you  hear  what  we  have  gone 
through.  Come  at  once,  Harry,  with  the  bravest  heart  you 
can  summon.     Such  is  the  earnest  prayer  of 

Your  sincere  friend  in  affliction, 

Amelia  Plinlimmon. 
P.  S. — Pray  ask  Mrs.  Stimcoe  to  be  kind  enough  to  advance 
the  fare  if  your  pocket-money  will  not  suffice. 

97 


POISOX    ISLAND 

"  And  I  doubt  if  there's  two  shillings  in  the 
house!  "  commented  Mrs.  Stimcoe,  candid  for  once, 
"  and  God  knows  what  I  can  pawn!  " 

Captain  Branscome  plunged  his  hand  into  his 
pocket  and  drew  out  a  guinea.  Captain  Branscome 
— who,  to  the  knowledge  of  both  of  us  never  had  a 
shilling  in  his  pocket — stood  there  nervously  prof- 
fering me  a  guinea! 


98 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE    CRIME    IN"    THE    SUMMER-HOUSE 

Mrs.  Stimcoe,  having  begged  Captain  Branscome 
to  take  watch  for  a  while  over  the  invalid,  and 
having  helped  me  to  pack  a  few  clothes  in  a  hand- 
bag, herself  accompanied  me  to  the  coach-office, 
where  we  found  the  Royal  Mail  on  the  point  of  start- 
ing. The  outside  passengers,  four  in  number,  had 
already  taken  their  seats — two  on  the  box  beside  the 
coachman,  and  two  on  the  seat  immediately  behind; 
and  by  the  light  of  the  lamp  overhanging  the  entry 
I  perceived  that  their  heads  were  together  in  close 
conversation,  in  which  the  coachman  himself  from 
time  to  time  took  a  share,  slewing  round  to  listen  or 
interpret  a  word,  and  anon  breaking  off  to  direct  the 
stowage  of  a  parcel  or  call  an  order  to  the  stable-boys. 
Mrs.  Stimcoe  had  stepped  into  the  office  to  book  my 
place,  and  while  I  waited  for  her,  watching  the 
preparations  for  departure,  my  curiosity  led  me  for- 
ward to  take  a  look  at  the  horses,  where,  under  the 
lamp,  the  coachman  caught  sight  of  me. 

99 


POISON    ISLAND 

"Wlie-ew!"  I  heard  him  whistle.  "Here's  the 
boy  himself!  Going  along  wi'  us,  sonny? "  he  asked, 
looking  down  on  me  and  speaking  down  in  a  voice 
which  seemed  to  me  unnaturally  gentle — for  I  re- 
membered him  as  a  gruff  fellow  and  irascible.  The 
outside  passengers  at  once  broke  off  their  talk  to  lean 
over  and  take  stock  of  me;  and  this  again  struck  me 
as  queer. 

"Jim!"  called  the  coachman  (Jim  was  the 
guard).     "  Jim !  " 

"  Ay,  ay !  "  answered  Jim  from  the  back  of  the 
roof,  where  he  was  arranging  the  mail-bags. 

"  Here's  an  outside  extry."  He  lowered  his  voice, 
so  that  I  caught  only  these  words :  "  The  youngster 
.  .  .  Minden  Cottage  ...  I  reckoned  they'd  be 
sending " 

"Hey?" 

Jim  the  guard  bent  over  for  a  look  at  me,  and 
scrambled  down  by  the  steps  of  his  dickey,  just  as 
Mrs.  Stimcoe  emerged  from  the  office.  She  was  pale 
and  agitated,  and  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  about 
her  distractedly,  when  Jim  blundered  against  her, 
whereat  she  put  out  a  hand  and  spoke  to  him.  I  saw 
Jim  fall  back  a  step  and  touch  his  hat.  He  was 
listening,  with  a  very  serious  face.  I  could  not  hear 
what  she  said. 

"  Cert'nly,    ma'am,"    he    answered.      "  Cert'nly, 

100 


THE    CKIME    IN    THE    SUMMEK-HOUSE 
under    the    circumstances,    you    may    depend    on 


me." 


He  mounted  the  coach  again,  and,  climbing  for- 
ward, whispered  in  the  back  of  the  coachman's  ear. 
The  passengers  bent  their  heads  forward  to  listen. 
They  nodded;  the  coachman  nodded,  too,  and 
stretched  down  a  hand. 

"  Can  you  climb,  sonny,  or  shall  we  fetch  the  steps 
for  you?  There!  I  reckoned  you  was  more  of  a  man 
than  to  need  'em!  " 

Mrs.  Stimcoe  detained  me  for  a  moment  to  fold 
me  in  a  masculine  hug.  But  her  bosom  might  have 
been  encased  in  an  iron  corselet  for  all  the  tender- 
ness it  conveyed.  "  God  bless  you,  Harry  Brooks, 
and  try  to  be  a  man!  "  Her  embrace  relaxed,  and 
with  a  dry-sounding  sob  she  let  me  go  as  I  caught 
the  coachman's  hand  and  was  swung  up  to  my  seat; 
and  with  that  we  were  off  and  up  the  cobble-paved 
street  at  a  rattle. 

I  do  not  know  the  names  of  my  fellow-passengers. 
Now  and  then  one  would  bend  forward  and  whisper 
to  his  neighbor,  who  answered  with  a  grunt  or  a  mo- 
tion of  his  head;  but  for  the  most  part,  and  for  mile 
after  mile,  we  all  sat  silent,  listening  only  to  the 
horses'  gallop,  the  chime  of  the  swingle-bars,  the 
hum  of  the  night  wind  in  our  ears.  The  motion  and 
the  strong  breeze  together  lulled  mc  little  by  little 

101 


POISON    ISLAND 

into  a  doze.  My  neighbor  on  the  right  wore  around 
his  shoulders  a  woollen  shawl,  against  which  after 
a  while  I  found  my  cheek  resting,  and  begged  his 
pardon.  He  entreated  me  not  to  mention  it,  but  to 
make  myself  comfortable;  and  thereupon  I  must 
have  fallen  fast  asleep.  I  awoke  as  the  coach  came  to 
a  standstill.  Were  we  pulling  up  to  change  teams? 
No;  we  were  on  the  dark  highroad,  between  hedges. 
Straight  ahead  of  us  blazed  two  carriage-lamps;  and 
a  man's  voice  was  hailing.  I  recognized  the  voice  at 
once.  It  belonged  to  a  Mr.  Jack  Rogers,  a  rory-tory 
young  squire  and  justice  of  the  peace  of  our  neigh- 
borhood, and  the  lamps  must  be  those  of  his  famous 
light  tilbury. 

"  Hallo !  "     he     was     shouting.       "  Royal     Mail, 
ahoy! " 

"  Royal  Mail  it  is !  "  shouted  back  the  coachman 
and  Jim  the  guard  together. 

"  Got  the  boy  Brooks  aboard?  " 
"  Ay,  ay,  Mr.  Rogers!  D'ye  want  him?  " 
"  No ;  you'll  take  him  along  quicker.  My  mare's 
fagged,  and  I  drove  along  in  case  the  letter  missed 
fire."  He  came  forward  at  a  foot's  pace,  and  pulled 
up  under  the  light  of  our  lamps.  "  Hallo !  is  that 
you,  Harry  Brooks?"  He  peered  up  at  me  out  of 
the  night. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered,  my  teeth  chattering  bc- 

102 


THE    CRIME    m    THE    SUMMER-HOUSE 

tween  apprehension  and  the  chill  of  the  night.  I 
longed  desperately  to  ask  what  had  happened  at 
home,  but  the  words  would  not  come. 

"  Right  you  are,  my  lad;  and  the  first  thing  when 
you  get  home,  tell  Miss  Plinlimmon  from  me  to  fill 
you  up  with  vittles  and  a  glass  of  hot  brandy-and- 
water.  Give  her  that  message,  with  Jack  Rogers's 
compliments,  and  tell  her  that  I'm  on  the  road  mak- 
ing inquiries,  and  may  get  so  far  as  Truro.  By  the 
way  " — he  turned  to  Jim  the  guard — "  you  haven't 
met  anything  that  looked  suspicious,  eh?  " 

"  Nothing  on  the  road  at  all,"  answered  Jim. 

"Well,  so-long!  Mustn't  delay  his  Majesty's 
mails,  or  waste  time  of  my  own.  Good-night,  Harry 
Brooks,  and  remember  to  give  my  message!  Good- 
night, gentlemen  all!  " 

He  flicked  at  his  mare.  Our  coachman  gathered 
up  his  reins,  and  away  we  went  once  more  at  a  gallop 
towards  the  dawn.  The  dawn  lay  cold  about  Minden 
Cottage  as  we  came  in  sight  of  it ;  and  at  first,  noting 
that  all  the  blinds  were  drawn,  I  thought  the  house- 
hold must  be  asleejD.  Then  I  remembered,  and  shiv- 
ered as  I  rose  from  my  seat,  cramped  and  stiff  from 
the  long  journey,  and  so  numb  that  Jim  the  guard 
had  to  lift  me  down  to  the  porch.  Miss  Plinlimmon, 
red-eyed  and  tremulous,  opened  the  door  to  me,  em- 
braced me,  and  led  me  to  the  little  parlor. 

103 


POISON    ISLAND 

"Is — is  my  father  dead?"  I  asked,  staring  va- 
cantly around  the  room,  and  upon  the  table  where 
she  had  set  out  a  breakfast.  She  bent  over  the  urn 
for  a  moment,  and  then,  coming  to  me,  took  my 
hand  and  drew  me  to  the  sofa. 

"  You  must  be  brave,  Harry." 

"But  what  has  happened?  And  how  did  it  hajv 
pen?     Was — was  it  sudden?     Please  tell  me,  Plin- 

ny!  " 

She  stroked  my  hand  and  shivered  slightly,  turn- 
ing her  face  away  towards  the  window. 

"  We  found  him  in  the  summer-house,  dear.  He 
was  lying  face  downward,  across  the  step  of  the  door- 
way, and  at  first  we  supposed  he  had  fallen  forward 
in  a  fit.  Ann  made  the  discovery,  and  came  running 
to  me  in  the  kitchen,  when  she  had  only  time  to  cry 
out  the  news  before  she  was  overtaken  with  hyster- 
ics. I  left  her  to  them,"  went  on  Miss  Plinlimmon 
simply,  "  and  ran  out  to  the  summer-house,  where 
by  and  by,  having  pulled  herself  together,  she  fol- 
lowed me.  By  this  time  it  had  fallen  dusk — nay,  it 
was  almost  dark,  which  accounts  for  one  not  seeing 
at  once  what  dreadful  thing  had  happened.  Your 
poor  father,  Harry — as  you  know — used  often  to  sit 
in  the  summer-house  until  quite  a  late  hour,  but  he 
had  never  before  dallied  quite  so  late,  and  in  the  end 
I  had  sent  Ann  out  to  remind  him  that  supper  was 

104 


THE    CRIME    m    THE    SUMMER-HOUSE 

waiting.  Well,  as  you  may  suppose,  he  was  heavy 
to  lift ;  and  we  two  women  being  alone  in  the  house, 
I  told  Ann  to  run  up  to  the  vicarage  or  to  Miss  Belch- 
er's, and  get  word  sent  for  a  doctor,  and  also  to  bring 
a  couple  of  men,  if  possible,  to  carry  him  into  the 
house.  I  had  scarcely  bidden  her  to  do  this  when 
she  cried  out,  screaming,  that  her  hand  was  damp, 
and  with  blood.  '  You  silly  woman !  '  said  I,  though 
trembling  myself  from  head  to  foot.  But  when  we 
fetched  a  candle,  we  saw  blood  running  down  the 
step,  and  your  father — my  poor  Harry! — lying  in  a 
pool  of  it — a  veritable  pool  of  it.  Ah,  Harry, 
Harry!  "  exclaimed  Miss  Plinlimmon,  relapsing  into 
that  literary  manner  which  was  second  nature  with 
her,  "  such  a  moment  occurring  in  the  pages  of  fic- 
tion may  stimulate  a  sympathetic  thrill  not  entirely 
disagreeable  to  the  reader,  but  in  real  life  I  wouldn't 
go  through  it  again  if  you  offered  me  a  fortune." 

"  Plinny,"  I  cried — "  Plinny,  what  is  this  you  are 
telling  me  about  blood?  " 

"  Your  poor  father,  Harry —  But  be  sure  their 
sins  will  find  them  out!  Mr.  Rogers  is  setting  the 
runners  on  their  track — he  is  most  kind.  Already 
he  has  had  two  hundred  handbills  printed.  We  are 
offering  a  hundred  pounds  reward — more  if  neces- 
sary— and  the  whole  country  is  up " 

"  Plimiy  dear  " — I  tried  to  steady  my  voice  as  I 

105 


POISON    ISLAND 

stood  and  faced  her — "  are  you  trying  to  tell  me  that 
— that  my  father  has  been  murdered?  " 

She  bowed  her  head  and  cast  her  apron  over  it, 
sobbing. 

"  Excuse  me,  Harry.  I  know  it  isn't  genteel ;  but 
in  such  moments —  And  they  have  found  the 
cashbox.  It  had  been  battered  open,  presumably  by 
a  stone,  and  flung  into  the  brook  a  hundred  yards 
below  Miss  Belcher's  lodge-gate." 

"  The  cashbox?  "    My  brain  whirled. 

"  The  key  was  in  your  father's  pocket.  He  had 
fetched  the  box  from  his  room,  it  appears,  about  two 
hours  before,  and  carried  it  out  to  the  summer-house. 
I  cannot  tell  you  with  what  purpose  he  carried  it  out 
there,  but  it  w^as  quite  contrary  to  his  routine." 

She  poured  out  a  cup  of  tea,  and  passed  it  to  me 
with  shaking  hands.  She  pressed  me  to  eat,  and  all 
the  time  she  kept  talking,  sometimes  lucidly,  some- 
times quite  incoherently;  and  I  listened  in  a  kind  of 
dream.  My  father  had  been  wellnigh  a  stranger  to 
me,  and  I  divined  that  I  should  never  sorrow  for  his 
loss  as  those  sorrow  who  have  genuinely  loved.  But 
his  death,  and  the  manner  of  it,  shocked  me  dread- 
fully, and  from  the  shock  my  brain  kept  harking 
away  to  Captain  Coffin  and  his  pursuer.  Could  they 
have  reached  Minden  Cottage?  And,  if  so,  had  their 
visit  any  connection  with  this  crime  ?  Captain  Danny 

106 


THE    CRIME    IX    THE    SUMMER-HOUSE 

had  started  for  Minden  Cottage.  .  .  .  Had  he  ar- 
rived ?    And,  if  so 

I  heard  Miss  Plinlimmon  asking :  "  Would  you 
care  to  see  him — that  is,  dear,  if  you  feel  strong 
enough?    His  expression  is  wonderfully  tranquil." 

She  led  me  upstairs  and  opened  the  door  for  me. 
A  sheet  covered  my  father  from  feet  to  chin,  and 
above  it  his  head  lay  back  on  the  pillow,  his  features, 
clear-cut  and  aquiline,  keeping  that  massive  repose 
which,  though  it  might  seem  to  be  deeper  now  in  the 
shade  of  the  darkened  room,  had  always  cowed  me 
while  he  lived.  It  seemed  to  me  that  my  father's 
death,  though  I  ought  to  feel  it  more  keenly,  made 
strangely  little  difference  to  him. 

"  You  will  need  sleep,"  said  Plinny,  who  had  been 
waiting  for  me  on  the  landing. 

I  told  her  that  she  might  get  my  bed  ready,  but  I 
would  first  take  a  turn  in  the  garden.  I  tiptoed 
downstairs.  The  floor  of  the  summer-house  had  been 
washed.  The  vane  on  its  conical  roof  sparkled  in  the 
sunlight.  I  stood  before  it,  attempting  to  picture 
the  tragedy  of  which,  here  in  the  clear  morning,  it 
told  nothing  to  help  me.  My  thoughts  were  still  run- 
ning on  Captain  Coffin  and  the  French  prisoner. 
Plinny  —  for  I  had  questioned  her  cautiously  — 
plainly  knew  nothing  of  any  such  man.  They  might, 
however,  have  entered  by  the  side-gate.     I  stepped 

107 


POISON    ISLAND 

back  under  the  apple-tree  by  the  flagstaff,  measuring 
with  my  eye  the  distance  between  this  side-gate  and 
the  summer-house.  As  I  did  so,  my  foot  struck 
against  something  in  the  tall  grass  under  the  tree, 
and  I  stooped  and  picked  it  up — a  pair  of  gold- 
rimmed  eyeglasses. 


108 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE    BLOODSTAIN    ON    THE    STILE 

My  father,  in  erecting  a  flagstaff  before  his  sum- 
mer-house, had  chosen  to  plant  it  on  a  granite  mill- 
stone, or,  rather,  had  sunk  its  base  through  the 
stone's  central  hole,  which  Miss  Plinlimmon  regu- 
larly filled  with  salt  to  keep  the  wood  from  rotting. 
Upon  this  mossed  and  weather-worn  bench  I  sat 
myself  down  to  examine  my  find. 

Yet  it  needed  no  examination  to  tell  me  that  the 
eyeglasses  were  Captain  Branscome's.  I  recognized 
the  delicate  cable  pattern  of  their  gold  rims,  glinting 
in  the  sunlight.  I  recognized  the  ring  and  the 
frayed  scrap  of  black  ribbon  attached  to  it.  I  re- 
membered the  guinea  with  which  Captain  Brans- 
come  had  paid  my  fare  on  the  coach.  I  remembered 
Miss  Plinlimmon's  account  of  the  stolen  cashbox. 

The  more  my  suspicions  grew  the  more  they  were 
incredible.  That  Captain  Branscome,  of  all  men  in 
the  world,  should  be  guilty  of  such  a  crime!  And 
yet,  with  this  damning  evidence  in  my  hand,  I  could 
not  but  recall  a  dozen  trifles — mere  straws,  to  be 

109 


POISON    ISLAND 

sure — all  pointing  towards  liim.  He  had  been  here 
in  my  father's  garden:  that  I  might  take  as  proven. 
With  what  object?  And  if  that  object  were  an  in- 
nocent one,  why  had  he  not  told  me  of  his  intention 
to  visit  Minden  Cottage?  I  remembered  how  straitly 
he  had  cross-examined  me,  a  while  ago,  on  the  to- 
pography of  the  cottage,  on  my  father's  household 
and  his  habits.  Again,  if  his  visit  had  been  an  in- 
nocent one,  why,  last  evening,  had  he  said  nothing 
of  it?  Why,  when  I  questioned  him  about  his  holi- 
day, had  he  answered  me  so  confusedly?  Yet  again, 
I  recalled  his  demeanor  when  Mrs.  Stimcoe  handed 
me  the  letter,  and  the  impression  it  gave  me — so 
puzzling  at  the  moment — that  he  had  foreknowledge 
of  the  news.  If  this  incredible  thing  were  true — if 
Captain  Branscome  were  the  criminal — the  puzzle 
ceased  to  be  a  puzzle;  the  guinea  and  the  broken 
cashbox  were  only  too  fatally  accounted  for. 

Nevertheless,  and  in  spite  of  the  guinea,  in  spite 
even  of  the  eyeglass  there  in  my  hand,  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  believe.  What?  Captain  Brans- 
come,  the  simple-minded,  the  heroic?  Captain 
Branscome,  of  the  threadbare  coat  and  the  sword  of 
honor  ?  Poor  he  was,  no  doubt — ^bitterly  poor — poor 
almost  to  starvation  at  times.  To  what  might  not 
a  man  be  driven  by  poverty  in  this  degree?  And 
here  was  evidence  for  judge  and  jury. 

110 


THE   BLOODSTAIN   ON  THE   STILE 

I  glanced  around  me  nervously,  and,  folding  the 
eyeglasses  together  in  a  fumbling  haste,  slipped 
them  into  my  breeches-pocket.  From  my  seat  be- 
neath the  flagstaff  I  looked  straight  into  the  doorway 
of  the  summer-house;  but  a  creeper  obscured  its 
rustic  window,  dimming  the  light  within;  and  a  ter- 
ror seized  me  that  some  one  was  concealed  there, 
watching  me — a  terror  not  unlike  that  which  had 
held  me  in  Captain  Coflin's  lodgings. 

While  I  stood  there,  summoning  up  courage  to 
invade  the  summer-house  and  make  sure,  my  brain 
harked  back  to  Captain  Coffin  and  the  man  Aaron 
Glass.  Captain  Coffin  had  taken  leave  of  me  in  a 
fever  to  reach  Minden  Cottage.  That  was  close  on 
sixty  hours  ago — three  nights  and  two  days.  Why, 
in  that  ample  time,  had  he  not  arrived,  and  what  had 
become  of  him?     Plinny  had  seen  no  such  man. 

I  fetched  a  tight  grip  on  my  courage,  walked 
across  to  the  doorway,  and  peered  into  the  summer- 
house.  It  was  empty,  and  I  stepped  inside — super- 
stitiously  avoiding,  as  I  did  so,  to  tread  on  the  spot 
where  my  father's  body  had  lain. 

Ann  the  cook — so  Plinny  told  me — had  found  his 
chair  overset  behind  him,  but  no  other  sign  of  a 
struggle.  He  had  been  stabbed  in  front,  high  on  the 
left  breast  and  a  little  below  the  collar-bone,  and 
must  have  toppled  forward  at  once  across  the  step, 

111 


POISON    ISLAND 

and  died  where  he  fell.  The  chair  had  been  righted 
and  set  in  place,  perhaps  by  Ann  when  she  washed 
down  the  step.  A  well-defined  line  across  the  floor 
showed  where  the  cleaning  had  begun,  and  behind  it 
the  scanty  furniture  of  the  place  had  not  been  dis- 
turbed. At  the  back,  in  one  comer,  stood  an  old 
drum,  with  dust  and  droppings  of  leaf-mould  in  the 
wrinkles  of  its  sagged  parchment,  and  dust  upon  the 
drumsticks  thrust  within  its  frayed  strapping;  in 
the  corner  opposite  an  old  military  chest  which  held 
the  bunting  for  the  flagstaif — a  Union  flag,  a  couple 
of  ensigns,  and  half  a  dozen  odd  square-signals  and 
pennants.  I  stooped  over  this,  and  as  I  did  so  I  ob- 
served that  there  were  finger-marks  on  the  dust  at 
the  edge  of  the  lid ;  but,  lifting  it,  found  the  flags  in- 
side neatly  rolled  and  stowed  in  order.  On  the  table 
lay  my  father's  Bible  and  his  pocket  Virgil,  the  lat- 
ter open  and  laid  face  do^A-nwards.  I  picked  it  up, 
and  the  next  moment  came  near  to  dropping  it  again 
with  a  shiver,  for  a  dry  smear  of  blood  crossed  the 
two  pages. 

Here,  not  to  complicate  mysteries,  let  me  tell  at 
once  what  Ann  told  me  later — that  she  had  found 
the  book  lying  in  the  blood-dabbled  grass  before  the 
step,  where  it  must  have  fallen  from  my  father's 
hand,  and  had  replaced  it  upon  the  table.  But  for 
the  moment,  surmising  another  clew,  I  stared  at  the 

112 


THE  BLOODSTAIN  OX  THE  STILE 

page — a  page  of  the  seventh  ^Eneid — and  at  the 
stain  which,  as  if  to  underline  them,  started  beneath 
the  words: 

"Hie  domus,  haec  patria  est.     Genitor  mihi  talia  namque 
(Nunc  repeto)  Anchises  fatorum  arcana  reliquit." 


I  set  down  the  book  as  I  had  found  it,  and 
stepped  forth  again  into  the  sunshine.  The  scouring 
of  the  step  had  left  a  moist  puddle  below  it,  where 
the  ground,  no  doubt,  had  been  dry  and  hard  on  the 
evening  of  the  murder.  At  the  edge  of  this  puddle 
the  turf  twinkled  with  clean  dew  —  close,  well- 
trimmed  turf  sloping  gently  to  the  stream  which 
formed  the  real  boundary  of  the  garden;  but  Miss 
Belcher,  the  neighboring  landowner,  a  person  of 
great  wealth  and  the  most  eccentric  good-nature,  had 
allowed  him  to  build  a  wall  on  the  far  side,  for  pri- 
vacy, and  had  granted  him  an  entrance  through  it  to 
her  park — a  narrow  wooden  door  to  which  a  minia- 
ture bridge  gave  access  across  the  stream. 

There  were  thus  three  ways  of  approaching  the 
summer-house:  (1)  By  the  path  which  wound  through 
the  garden  from  the  house;  (2)  across  the  turf  from 
the  side-gate,  which  opened  out  of  a  lane,  or  wood- 
cutters' road,  running  at  right  angles  from  the  turn- 
pike  and  alongside  the  garden  fence  towards  the 

113 


POISOX    ISLA.XD 

park;  aud  (3)  from  the  park  itself,  across  the  little 
bridge.  From  the  bridge  a  straight  line  to  the  smii- 
mer-house  would  lie  behind  the  angle  of  sight  of  any 
one  seated  within;  so  that  a  visitor,  stepping  with 
caution,  might  present  himself  at  the  doorway  with- 
out any  warning. 

You  may  say  that,  my  father  being  blind,  it  need 
not  have  entered  into  my  calculations  whether  his 
assailant  had  approached  in  full  view  of  the  doorway 
or  from  the  rear.  But  the  assailant — let  us  suppose 
for  a  moment  —  was  some  one  ignorant  of  my 
father's  blindness.  This  granted,  as  it  was  at  least 
possible,  he  would  be  likeliest  to  steal  upon  the  sum- 
mer-house from  the  rear.  I  cannot  say  more  than 
that,  standing  there  by  the  doorway,  I  felt  the  ap- 
proach from  the  streamside  to  be  most  dangerous, 
and  therefore  the  likeliest. 

In  a  few  minutes,  as  I  well  knew,  Plinny  would 
be  coming  in  search  of  me,  to  persuade  me  back  to 
the  house  to  breakfast  and  bed.  I  stepped  down  to 
the  streamside,  where  the  beehives  stood  in  a  row  on 
the  brink,  paused  for  a  moment  to  listen  to  the  hum 
within  them  and  note  that  the  bees  were  making 
ready  to  swarm,  crossed  the  bridge,  and  tried  the 
rusty  hasp  of  the  door.  It  yielded  stiffly;  but  as  I 
pulled  the  door  inwards  it  brushed  aside  a  mass  of 
spider's  web,  white  and  matted,  that  could  not  be  less 

114 


THE   BLOODSTAIN   OX   THE   STILE 

than  a  month  old.  Also  it  brushed  a  clump  of  ivy 
overgrowing  the  lintel,  and  shook  down  about  half 
an  ounce  of  powdery  dust  into  my  hair  and  eyes.  I 
scarcely  troubled  to  look  through.  Clearly,  the  door 
had  not  been  opened  for  many  weeks — possibly  not 
since  my  last  holidays. 

I  recrossed  the  bridge  and  inspected  the  side-gate. 
This  opened,  as  I  have  said,  upon  a  lane  never  used 
but  by  the  woodmen  on  Miss  Belcher's  estate,  and  by 
them  very  seldom.  It  entered  the  park  by  a  stone 
bridge  across  the  stream  and  by  a  ruinous  gate,  the 
gaps  of  which  had  been  patched  with  furze  fagots. 
The  roadway  itself  was  carpeted  with  last  year's 
leaves  from  a  coppice  across  the  lane — leaves  which 
the  winter's  rains  had  beaten  into  a  black  compost, 
and  almost  facing  the  side-gate  was  a  stile  whence 
a  tangled  footpath  led  into  the  coppice. 

I  had  stepped  out  into  the  lane  and  was  star- 
ing over  the  stile  into  the  green  gloom  of  the 
coppice,  when  I  heard  Plinny's  voice  calling  to 
me  from  the  house,  and  I  had  half  turned  to  hail  in 
answer  when  my  e^^es  fell  on  the  upper  bar  of  the 
stile. 

Across  the  edge  of  it  ran  a  dark  brown  smear — 
a  smear  which  I  recognized  for  dried  blood. 

"  Harry!    Harry  dear!  " 

"  Plinny!  "    I  raced  back  through  the  garden,  and 

115 


rOTSOX    ISLAND 

almost  fell  into  her  arms  as  she  came  along  the 
l)ath  between  the  currant  bushes  in  search  of  me. 
"  Plinny — O  Plinny!  "  I  gasped. 

"  My  dear  child,  what  has  happened?  " 

Before  I  could  answer  there  came  wafted  to  our 
ears  from  eastward  a  sound  of  distant  shouting,  and 
almost  simultaneously,  from  the  high-road  near  at 
hand,  the  trit-trot  of  hoofs  approaching  at  great 
speed  from  westward,  and  the  "Who-oop!"  of  a 
man's  voice,  lusty  on  the  morning  air. 

"That  will  be  Mr.  Jack  Rogers,"  said  Plinny. 
"  He  brings  us  news  for  certain !  Yes,  he  is  rein- 
ing up." 

We  ran  through  the  house  together,  and  reached 
the  front  door  in  time  to  witness  a  most  extraordi- 
nary scene. 

Mr.  Jack  Rogers's  tilbury  had  run  past  the  house 
and  come  to  a  halt  a  short  gunshot  beyond,  where 
it  stood  driverless — for  Mr.  Jack  Rogers  had  dis- 
mounted, and  was  gesticulating  with  both  arms  to 
stop  a  man  racing  down  the  road  to  meet  him.  A 
moment  later,  as  this  runner  came  on,  a  second  hove 
in  sight  over  the  rise  of  the  road  behind  him — a 
short  figure,  so  stout  and  round  that  in  the  distance 
it  resembled  not  a  man  so  much  as  a  ball  rolling  in 
pursuit. 

"Hi!     Stop,  you  there!"  shouted  Mr.  Rogers; 

116 


THE  BLOODSTAK^  ON  THE   STILE 

but  the  first  runner  might  have  been  deaf  for  all  the 
attention  he  paid. 

"  Good  Lord!  "  said  I,  catching  my  breath;  "  it's 
Mr.  George  Goodfellow!  " 

"In  the  King's  name!"  Mr.  Rogers  shouted, 
making  a  dash  to  intercept  him.  And  a  moment 
later  the  two  had  collided,  and  were  rolling  in  the 
dust  together. 

I  ran  towards  them,  with  Plinny — brave  soul — 
at  mj  heels,  and  arrived  to  find  Mr.  Rogers,  hat- 
less  and  exceedingly  dishevelled,  kneeling  with  both 
hands  around  the  neck  of  his  prostrate  antagonist, 
and  holding  his  face  down  in  the  dust. 

"  You'd  best  stand  up  and  come  along  quietly," 
Mr.  Rogers  adjured  him. 

"  Gug-gug — how  the  devil  c-can  I  stand  up  if  you 
won't  lul-lul-let  me?"  protested  Mr.  Goodfellow, 
reasonably  enough. 

"  Very  well,  then."  Mr.  Rogers  relaxed  his  grip. 
"  Stand  up !  But  you're  my  prisoner,  so  let's  have 
no  more  nonsense!  " 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what's  taken  ye  to  pitch  into  a 
man  like  this?  "  demanded  Mr.  Goodfellow,  in  a  tone 
of  great  umbrage,  as  he  shook  the  dust  out  of  his 
coat  and  hair.  "  A  fellow  I  never  seen  before,  not 
to  my  knowledge.  Why — hallo!  "  said  he,  looking 
up  and  catching  sight  of  me. 

117 


POISON    ISLAND 

"Hallo!"  said  I. 

"Hallo!"  said  Mr.  Rogers  in  his  turn.  "Do 
you  two  know  each  other?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  we  does!  "  said  Mr.  Goodfellow. 

"  I  don't  know  where  *  of  course  '  comes  in."  Mr. 
Rogers  eyed  him  with  stem  suspicion.  "  Why  were 
you  running  away  from  the  constable  ? " 

Mr.  Goodfellow  glanced  towards  the  stout,  round 
man,  who  by  this  time  had  drawn  near,  mopping,  as 
he  came,  a  face  as  red  as  the  red  waistcoat  he  wore. 

"  Him  a  constable?  Why,  I  took  him  for  a  loon- 
atic!  They  put  the  loonatics  into  them  colored 
weskits,  don't  they?" 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort.  You're  thinking  of  the 
warders,"  Mr.  Rogers  answered. 

"  Oh?  Then  I  made  a  mistake,"  said  Mr.  Good- 
fellow cheerfully. 

"  Look  here,  my  friend,  if  you're  thinking  to  play 
this  off  as  a  joke  you'll  find  it  no  joking  matter. 
Madam  " — he  turned  to  Miss  Plinlimmon — "  is  this 
the  man  who  called  at  the  cottage  two  days  ago? " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Plinny,  "  and  once  before,  as  I 
remember." 

"  And  on  each  occasion  did  you  observe  something 
s^trange  in  his  manner?" 

"  Very  strange  indeed.  He  kept  asking  questions 
about  the  house  and  the  gardeji,  and  the  position  of 

118 


THE   BLOODSTAIN   O^  THE   STILE 

the  rooms,  and  about  poor  Major  Brooks,  and  what 
rent  he  paid,  and  if  he  was  well-to-do.  And  he  took 
out  a  measure  from  his  pocket  and  began  to  calcu- 
late  " 

"  Quite  so,"  Mr.  Rogers  turned  next  to  the  con- 
stable. "  Hosken,"  he  asked,  "  you  have  been  mak- 
ing inquiries  about  this  man?  " 

"  I  have,  sir;  all  along  the  road,  so  far  as  Torpoint 
Eerry." 

"  And  you  learned  enough  to  justify  you  in  arrest- 
ing him?  " 

"  Ample,  y'r  worship.  There  wasn't  a  public- 
house  along  the  road  but  thought  his  behavior  highly 
peculiar.  He's  a  well-known  character,  an'  the  ques- 
tions he  asks  you  would  be  surprised.  He  plies  be- 
tween Falmouth  and  Plymouth,  sir,  once  a  week 
regular.  So,  actin'  on  information  that  he  might  be 
expected  along  early  this  morning,  I  concealed  my- 
self in  the  hedge,  sir,  the  best  part  of  two  miles 
back " 

"  You  didn't,"  interrupted  Mr.  Goodfellow.  "  I 
saw  your  red  stomach  between  the  bushes  thirty 
vards  before  ever  I  came  to  it,  and  wondered  Avhat 
mischief  you  was  up  to.     I'm  wondering  still." 

"  At  any  rate,  3-ou  are  detained,  sir,  upon  sus- 
picion," said  Mr.  Rogers  sharply,  ""  and  will  come 
with  us  to  the  cottage  and  submit  to  be  searched." 

119 


POISON    ISLAND 

"  Brooks,"  asked  Mr.  Goodfellow  feebly,  "  what's 
wrong  with  'em  ?     And  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Rogers,"  I  broke  in,  "  I  know  this  man. 
His  name  is  Goodfellow;  he  lives  at  Falmouth;  and 
you  are  wrong,  quite  wrong,  in  suspecting  him.  But 
what  is  more,  Mr.  Rogers,  you  are  wasting  time. 
There's  blood  on  the  stile  down  the  lane.  AVhoever 
broke  into  the  garden  must  have  escaped  that  way — 
by  the  path  through  the  plantation " 

"  Eh?  "  Mr.  Rogers  jumped  at  me  and  caught  me 
by  the  arm.  "  Why  the  devil — you'll  excuse  me, 
Miss  Plinlimmon — but  why  on  earth,  child,  if  you 
have  news,  couldn't  you  have  told  it  at  once?  Blood 
on  the  stile,  you  say?    What  stile? " 

"  The  stile  down  the  lane,  sir,"  I  answered,  point- 
ing. "  And  I  couldn't  tell  you  before,  because  you 
didn't  give  me  time." 

"  Show  us  the  way,  quick!  And  you,  Hosken, 
catch  hold  of  the  mare  and  lead  her  round  to  Miss 
Belcher's  stables.  Or,  stay — she's  dead  beat.  You 
can  help  me  slip  her  out  of  the  shafts  and  tether 
her  by  the  gate  yonder.  That's  right,  man; 
but  don't  tie  her  up  too  tight.  Give  her  room  to 
bite  a  bit  of  grass,  and  she'll  wait  here  quiet  as  a 
lamb." 

''  What  about  the  prisoner,  sir? "  asked  the  stolid 
Iloskcn. 

120 


THE  BLOODSTAIN  ON  THE  STILE 


(( 


D n  the  prisoner!  "  answered  Mr.  Rogers 

testily,  in  the  act  of  unharnessing.  "  Slip  the  hand- 
cuffs on  him.  And  you,  Miss  Plinlimmon,  will  re- 
turn to  the  cottage,  if  you  please." 

"  I'd  like  to  come,  too,  if  I  may,"  put  in  Mr.  Good- 
fellow. 

"  Eh  ?  "  Mr.  Rogers,  in  the  act  of  rolling  up  one 
of  the  traces,  stared  at  him  with  frank  admiration. 
"  "Well,  you're  a  sportsman,  anyhow.  Catch  hold  of 
his  arm,  Hosken,  and  run  him  along  with  us.  Yes, 
sir,  though  I  say  it  as  a  justice  of  the  peace,  be 

d d  to  me,  but  I  like  your  spirit;  and  with  the 

gallows  staring  you  in  the  face,  too !  " 

"  Gallows?  What  gallows?  "  panted  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  in  my  ear  a  few  moments  later,  as  we  tore  in 
a  body  down  the  lane. 

"  Hush !  "  I  panted  in  answer.  "  It's  all  a  mis- 
take." 

"  It  ought  to  be."  We  drew  up  by  the  stile,  where 
I  pointed  to  the  smear  of  blood,  and  Mr.  Rogers, 
calling  to  Hosken  to  follow  him,  dashed  into  the 
coppice  and  down  the  path  into  the  rank  under- 
growth. I,  too,  was  lifting  a  leg  to  throw  it  over  the 
bar,  when  Mr.  Goodfellow  plucked  me  by  the  arm. 
"  Terrible  hasty  friends  you  keep  in  these  parts, 
Brooks,"  he  said  plaintively.  "  What's  it  all 
about?" 

121 


POISON    ISLAND 

"Why,  murder!"  said  I.  "Haven't  you  heard, 
man  ?  " 

"  Not  a  syllable !  Good  Lord !  you  don't  mean — " 
He  passed  a  shaky  hand  over  his  forehead  as  a  cry 
rang  back  to  us  through  the  coppice, 

"  Here,  Hosken,  this  way!  Oh,  by  the  Almighty, 
be  quick,  man!  " 

I  vaulted  over  the  stile,  Mr.  Goodfellow  close 
after  me.  For  two  hundred  yards  and  more — three 
hundred  maybe — we  blundered  and  crashed  through 
the  low-growing  hazels,  and  came  suddenly  to  a  hor- 
rified stand. 

A  little  to  the  left  of  the  path,  between  it  and  the 
stream,  Mr.  Rogers  and  the  constable  knelt  together 
over  the  body  of  a  man  half  hidden  in  a  tangle  of 
brambles. 

The  corpse's  feet  pointed  towards  the  path;  and 
I  recognized  the  shoes,  as  also  the  sea-cloth  trousers, 
before  Mr.  Rogers — cursing  in  his  hurry  rather  than 
at  the  pain  of  his  lacerated  hands — tore  the  brambles 
aside  and  revealed  its  face  —  the  face  of  Captain 
Coffin,  blue-cold  in  death  and  staring  up  from  its 
pillow  of  rotted  leaves. 

I  felt  myself  reeling.  But  it  was  Mr.  Goodfellow 
who  reeled  against  me,  and  would  have  fallen  if 
Hosken  the  constable  had  not  sprung  upon  one  knee 
and  caught  him. 

122 


THE   BLOODSTAIN   ON   THE   STILE 


a 


If  you  ask  my  opinion,"  I  heard  Hosken  saying 
as  he  raised  himself  and  held  Mr.  Goodfellow  up- 
right, steadying  him,  "  'tis  a  case  o'  guilty  con- 
science, an'  I  never  in  my  experience  saw  a  clearer." 


123 


CHAPTER    XIII 


CLEWS    IN    A    TANGLE 


"  Guilty  or  not,"  said  Mr.  Jack  Rogers  sharply, 
"  I'll  take  care  he  doesn't  escape.  Run  you  down  to 
Miss  Belcher's  kennels,  and  fetch  along  a  couple  of 
men — any  one  you  can  pick  up — to  help.  And  don't 
make  a  noise  as  you  go  past  the  cottage;  the  women 
there  are  frightened  enough  already.  Come  to  think 
of  it,  I  heard  some  fellows  at  work  as  I  drove  by 
just  now,  thinning  timber,  in  the  plantation  under 
the  kennels.  Off  with  3'ou,  man,  and  don't  stand 
gaping  like  a  stuck  pig!  " 

Thus  adjured.  Constable  Hosken  ran,  leaving  us 
three  to  watch  the  body. 

"  The  man's  pockets  have  been  rifled,  that's  plain 
enough,"  Mr.  Rogers  muttered,  as  he  bent  over  it 
again,  and  with  that  I  suppose  I  must  have  made 
some  kind  of  exclamation,  for  he  looked  up  at  me, 
still  with  a  horrified  frown. 

"Hallo!    You  know  him?" 

I  nodded. 

124 


CLEWS    IN   A   TANGLE 

"  His  name's  Cofiin.  He  came  here  from  Fal- 
mouth." 

For  a  moment  Mr.  Rogers  did  not  appear  to  catch 
the  words.  His  eyes  travelled  from  my  face  to  Mr. 
Goodfellow's. 

"You,  too?" 

"  Knew  him  intimate.  Know  him?  Why,  I  live 
but  two  doors  away  from  him  in  the  same  court." 

"  Look  here,"  said  Mr.  Rogers  slowly,  after  a 
pause,  "  this  is  a  black  business,  and  a  curst  mysteri- 
ous one,  and  I  wasn't  born  with  the  gift  of  seeing 
daylight  through  a  brick  wall.  But  speaking  as  a 
magistrate,  Mr.  What's-your-name,  I  ought  to  warn 
you  against  saying  what  may  be  used  for  evidence. 
As  for  you,  lad,  you'd  best  tell  as  much  as  you  know. 
What  d'ye  say  his  name  was?  " 

"  CoiBn,  sir." 

"  H'm,  he's  earned  it.  The  back  of  his  head's 
smashed  all  to  pieces.  Lived  in  Falmouth,  you  say? 
And  you  knew  him  there?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  what  was  he  doing  in  these  parts? " 

"  He  started  to  call  on  my  father,  sir." 

"  Eh?    You  knew  of  his  coming?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.     We  planned  it  together." 

Mr.  Rogers,  still  on  his  knees,  leant  back  and  re- 
garded me  fixedly. 

125 


POISON    ISLAND 

"You  planned  it  together?"  he  repeated  slowly. 
"  Well,  go  on.  He  started  to  call  on  your  father. 
Why?  " 

"  He  wanted  to  show  my  father  something,"  said 
I,  with  a  glance  at  Mr.  Goodfellow.  "  Are  you  sure, 
sir,  there's  nothing  in  his  pockets?  " 

"  Not  a  penny-piece.  I'll  search  'em  again  if  you 
insist,  though  I  don't  like  the  job." 

"  He  carried  it  in  his  breast-pocket,  sir;  there,  on 
the  left  side." 

"  Then  your  question's  easy  to  answer."  Mr. 
Rogers  turned  back  the  lapel  and  pointed.  The 
pocket  hung  inside  out.  "  But  what  was  it  he  car- 
ried?" 

I  hesitated,  with  another  glance  towards  Mr. 
Goodfellow,  who  at  the  same  moment  uttered  a  cry 
and  sprang  for  a  thicket  of  brambles  directly  behind 
Mr.  Rogers's  back.  Mr.  Rogers  leapt  up,  with  an 
oath. 

"  No,  you  don't!  "  he  threatened,  preparing  to 
spring  in  pursuit. 

But  Mr.  Goodfellow,  not  heeding  him,  plunged 
a  hand  among  the  brambles  and  drew  forth  a  walk- 
ing-stick of  ebony,  carved  in  rings,  ending  with  a 
ferrule  in  an  iron  spike — Captain  Coffin's  walking- 
stick. 

"  I  glimpsed  at  it,  there,  lyin'  like  a  snake,"  he 

126 


CLEWS    m    A    TANGLE 

began,  and  let  fall  the  stick  with  another  sudden, 
sharp  cry.     "  Ur-rh !    There's  blood  upon  it !  " 

Mr.  Rogers  picked  it  up  and  examined  it  loath- 
ingly.  Blood  there  was — blood  mixed  with  gray 
hairs  upon  its  heavy  ebony  knob,  and  blood  again 
upon  its  wicked-looking  spike. 

"  This  settles  all  question  of  the  weapon,"  he  said. 
"  The  owner  of  this " 

We  cried  out,  speaking  together,  that  the  stick  be- 
longed to  the  murdered  man,  and  just  then  a  voice 
hailed  us,  and  Constable  Hosken  came  panting  up, 
with  two  of  Miss  Belcher's  woodmen  at  his  heels. 

Mr.  Rogers  directed  them  to  fetch  a  hurdle. 
Then  came  the  question  whither  to  carry  the  corpse, 
and  after  some  discussion  one  of  the  woodmen  sug- 
gested that  Miss  Belcher's  cricket  pavilion  lay  handy, 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards  beyond  the  rise  of  the 
park,  across  the  stream.  "  At  this  time  of  year  the 
lady  wouldn't  object " 

Mr.  Rogers  shuddered. 

"  And  the  last  time  I  saw  the  inside  of  it  'twas  at 
Lydia's  Cricket-Week  Ball — and  the  place  all  flags 
and  lanterns,  and  a  good  third  of  the  men  drunk! 
Well,  carry  him  there  if  you  must,  but  damme  if 
I'll  ever  find  stomach  to  dance  there  again!  " 

The  men  lifted  their  burden  and  carried  it  out 
into  the  lane,  where  the  rest  of  us  pulled  away  the 

127 


POISON    ISLAND 

furze-bushes  stopping  the  gate  into  the  park  and  so 
followed  the  body  up  the  green  slope  towards  the 
rise,  over  which,  as  we  climbed,  the  thatched  roof 
of  the  pavilion  slowly  hove  into  sight. 

"Hallo!  "  Mr.  Rogers  halted  and  stared  at  the 
bearers,  who  also  had  halted.  "  What  the  devil 
noise  is  that?  " 

The  noise  was  that  of  a  sudden  blow  or  impact 
upon  timber.  After  about  thirty  seconds  it  was  re- 
peated, and  our  senses  told  us  that  it  came  from 
within  the  pavilion. 

"  I  reckon,  sir,"  suggested  one  of  the  woodmen, 
"  'tis  Miss  Belcher  practising." 

"  Good  Lord!  Come  with  me,  Harry — the  rest 
stay  where  you  are,"  Mr.  Rogers  commanded,  and 
ran  towards  the  pavilion;  and  as  we  started  I  heard 
a  whizzing  and  cracking  within,  as  of  machinery,  fol- 
lowed by  a  double  crack  of  timber. 

"Lydia!     Lydia  Belcher!" 

"  Hey!  What's  the  matter?  "  I  heard  Miss  Belch- 
er's voice  demand,  as  he  burst  in  through  the  door- 
way. "  Take  care,  the  catapult's  loaded !  "  A  whiz, 
and  again  a  crack.  "  There  now!  Oh,  well  fielded, 
indeed!  Well  field —  Eh?  Caught  you  on  the 
ankle,  did  it?  Well,  and  you're  lucky  it  didn't  find 
your  skull,  blundering  in  upon  a  body  in  this 
fashion." 

128 


CLEWS    m    A    TANGLE 

The  first  sight  that  met  me  as  I  reached  the  door- 
way was  Mr.  Jack  Rogers  holding  one  foot  and  hop- 
ping around  with  a  face  of  agony.  From  him  my 
astonished  gaze  travelled  to  Miss  Lydia  Belcher, 
whom  I  must  pause  to  describe. 

I  have  hinted  before  that  Miss  Belcher  was  an 
eccentric;  but  I  certainly  cannot  have  prepared  the 
reader — as  I  was  certainly  unprepared  myself — for 
Miss  Belcher  as  we  surprised  her. 

She  wore  top-boots;  but  this  is  a  trifle,  for  she 
habitually  wore  top-boots.  LTpon  them,  and  beneath 
the  short  skirt  of  a  red  flannel  petticoat,  she  had 
indued  a  pair  of  cricket-guards.  Above  the  red  flan- 
nel petticoat  came,  frank  and  unashamed,  an  ample 
pair  of  stays;  above  them,  the  front  of  a  yet  ampler 
chemise  and  a  yellow  bandana  kerchief  tied  in  a 
sailor's  knot;  above  these,  a  middle-aged  face  full  of 
character  and  not  without  a  touch  of  mustache  on 
the  upper  lip;  an  aquiline  nose,  gray  eyes  that  apolo- 
gized to  nobody,  a  broad  brow  to  balance  a  broad, 
square  jaw,  and,  on  the  top  of  all,  a  square-topped 
beaver  hat.  So  stood  Miss  Belcher,  with  a  cricket- 
bat  under  her  arm;  an  Englishwoman,  owner  of  one 
of  England's  "stately  homes";  a  lady  amenable  to 
few  laws  save  of  her  own  making,  and  to  no  man 
save — remotely — the  King,  whose  health  she  drank 
sometimes  in  port  and  sometimes  in  gin-and-water. 

129 


POISON    ISLAND 

"  Good-morning,  Jack!  Sorry  to  cut  you  over 
with  that  off-drive;  but  you  shouldn't  have  come  in 
without  knocking.  Eh?  Is  that  Harry  Brooks?  " 
Her  face  grew  grave  for  a  moment  before  she  turned 
upon  Mr.  Rogers  that  smile  which,  if  usually  latent 
and  at  the  best  not  entirely  feminine,  was  her  least 
dubitable  charm.  "  Now,  upon  my  word.  Jack,  you 
have  more  thoughtfulness  than  ever  I  gave  you 
credit  for." 

Mr.  Rogers  stared  at  her. 

"  An  hour's  knockabout  with  me  will  do  the 
child  more  good  than  moping  in  the  house,  and 
I  ought  to  have  thought  of  it  myself.  Come  along, 
Harry  Brooks,  and  play  me  a  match  at  single 
wicket.  Help  me  push  away  the  catapult  there  into 
the  corner.  Will  you  take  first  innings,  or  shall 
we  toss? " 

The  catapult  indicated  by  Miss  Belcher  was  a  for- 
midable-looking engine  with  an  iron  arm  or  rod 
terminating  in  a  spoon-shaped  socket,  and  worked  by 
a  contrivance  of  crank  and  chain.  You  placed  your 
cricket-ball  in  the  socket,  and  then,  having  wound  up 
the  crank  and  drawn  a  pin  which  released  the  ma- 
chinery, had  just  time  to  run  back  and  defend  your 
wicket  as  the  iron  rod  revolved  and  discharged  the 
ball  with  a  jerk.  The  rod  itself  worked  on  a  slide, 
and  could  be  shortened  or  extended  to  vary  the  tra- 

130 


CLEWS    m    A    TANGLE 

jectorj,  and  the  exercise  it  entailed  in  one  way  and 
another  had  given  Miss  Belcher's  cheeks  a  fine 
healthy  glow. 

"  Phew !  "  she  exclaimed,  tucking  the  bat  under 
her  arm  and  wiping  her  forehead  with  a  loose  end 
of  her  yellow  bandana.  "  I'm  feelin'  like  the  lady 
in  '  The  Yicar  of  Wakefield  ' ;  by  which  I  don't  mean 
the  one  that  stooped  to  folly,  but  the  one  that  was  all 
of  a  muck  of  sweat." 

"  My  dear  Lydia,"  gasped  Mr.  Rogers,  "  we 
haven't  come  to  play  cricket.  Put  down  your  bat 
and  listen  to  me.  There's  the  devil  to  pay  in  this 
parish  of  yours.  To  begin  with,  we've  found  another 
body " 

"Eh?    Where?" 

"  In  the  plantation  under  the  slope  here — close 
beside  the  path,  and  about  two  gunshots  off  the 
lane." 

"  What  have  you  done  with  it?  " 

"  Two  of  your  fellows  are  fetching  it  along.  I  was 
going  to  ask  you  as  a  favor  to  let  it  lie  here  for  the 
time  while  we  follow  up  the  search." 

"  Of  course  you  may.    But  who  is  it?  " 

"  An  old  man  in  seaman's  clothes.  Harry  knows 
him;  says  he  hails  from  Ealmouth,  and  that  his  name 
is  Coffin.  And  we've  arrested  a  young  fellow  on 
suspicion,  though  I  begin  to  think  he  hasn't  much  to 

131 


POISON    ISLAND 

do  with  it ;  but,  as  it  happens,  he  comes  from  Fal- 
mouth, too,  and  knows  the  deceased." 

Miss  Belcher  hitched  an  old  riding-skirt  off  a  peg 
and  indued  it  over  her  red  flannel  petticoat,  fasten- 
ing it  about  her  waist  with  a  leathern  strap  and 
buckle. 

"  Well,  the  first  thing  is  to  fetch  the  body  along, 
and  then  I'll  go  down  with  you  and  have  a  look." 

"  I've  halted  the  men  about  a  hundred  yards  down 
the  hill.  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  step  straight 
along  with  me  to  the  house,  so  as  to  be  out  of  the 
way  when  they —  But  anyhow,  if  you  insist  on 
coming,  we  can  fetch  across  the  cricket-field  and 
down  to  the  left,  so  that  you  needn't  meet  it." 

"  Bless  the  man !  " — Miss  Belcher  had  turned  to 
another  peg,  taken  down  a  loose  weather-stained 
gardening-jacket,  and  was  slipping  an  arm  into  the 
sleeve — "  you  don't  suppose,  do  you,  that  I'm  the 
sort  of  person  to  be  scared  by  a  dead  body?  Open 
the  door,  please,  and  lead  the  way.  This  is  a  serious 
business.  Jack,  and  I  doubt  if  you  have  the  head 
for  it." 

Sure  enough,  the  sight  of  the  dead  body  on  the 
hurdle  shook  Miss  Belcher's  nerve  not  at  all,  or,  at 
any  rate,  not  discernibly.  "  Humph !  "  she  said. 
"  Take  him  to  the  pavilion  and  cover  him  decently. 
You'll  find  a  yard  or  two  of  clean  awning  in  the  left- 

132 


CLEWS    IN    A    TANGLE 

hand  corner  of  the  scoring-box."  She  eyed  Mr. 
Goodfellow  for  a  couple  of  seconds  and  swung  round 
upon  Mr.  Rogers.  "  Is  that  the  man  you've  ar- 
rested? " 

Mr.  Rogers  nodded. 

"Fiddlestick-end!" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  " 

"  Fiddlestick-end !  Look  at  the  man's  face.  And 
you  call  yourself  a  justice  of  the  peace? " 

"  It  was  thrust  upon  me,"  said  Mr.  Rogers  mod- 
estly. "  I  don't  say  he's  guilty,  mind  you;  and,  of 
course,  if  you  say  he  isn't " 

"Look  at  his  face!  "  repeated  Miss  Belcher:  and, 
turning,  addressed  Mr.  Goodfellow.  "  My  good 
man,  you  hadn't  any  hand  in  this — eh? " 

"  No,  ma'am;  in  course  I  hadn't,"  Mr.  Goodfellow 
answered  fervently. 

"  There!     You  hear  what  he  says?  " 

"  Lydia,  Lydia !  I've  the  highest  possible  respect 
for  your  judgment;  but  isn't  this  what  you  might  call 
a  trifle — er — summary?  " 

"  It  saves  time,"  said  Miss  Belcher.  "  And  if 
you're  going  to  catch  the  real  culprit,  time  is  pre- 
cious.    Now  take  me  to  see  the  spot." 

But  at  this  point  Mr.  Goodfellow's  emotions  over- 
mastered him^  and  he  broke  forth  into  the  language 
of  rhapsody. 

133 


POISON    ISLAND 

"  O  woman,  woman,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Goodfellow, 
"  whatever  would  the  world  do  without  your  won- 
drous instink !  " 

"  Bless  the  man !  " — ]\Iiss  Belcher  drew  back  a 
pace — "  is  he  talking  of  me  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am ;  generally,  or,  as  you  might  say,  of 
the  sex  as  a  whole.  Mind  you,  I  won't  go  so  far  as 
to  deny  that  the  gentleman  here — or  the  constable, 
for  that  matter — had  a  right  to  be  suspicious.  But 
to  think  o'  me  liftin'  a  hand  against  poor  old  Danny 
Coffin !  Why,  ma'am,  the  times  I've  a-led  him  home 
from  the  publics  when  incapable  is  not  to  be  num- 
bered ;  and  only  at  this  very  moment  in  my  little 
shop,  home  in  Falmouth,  I've  a  corner  cupboard  of 
his  under  repair  that  he  wouldn't  trust  to  another 
living  soul !  And  along  comes  you  an'  say,  '  That 
man's  innocent !  Look  at  his  face ! '  you  says,  which 
it's  downright  womanly  instink,  if  ever  there  was 
such  a  thing  in  this  world." 

"  A  corner  cupboard !  "  I  gasped.  "  You  have  the 
corner  cupboard  ?  " 

Mr.  Goodfellow  nodded. 

"  I  took  it  home  imbeknowns  to  the  old  man. 
Many  a  time  he'd  spoken  to  me  about  repairin'  it, 
the  upper  hinge  bein'  cracked,  as  you  may  remember. 
But  when  it  came  to  handin'  it  over  I  could  never  get 
him.     So  that  afternoon,  the  coast  bein'  clear  and 

134 


CLEWS    m    A    TANGLE 

him  sitting  drimk  in  the  Plume  o'  Feathers,  as  again 
you  will  remember " 

But  here  Miss  Belcher  shot  out  a  hand  and  gripped 
my  collar  to  steady  me  as  I  reeled.  I  dare  say  that 
himger  and  lack  of  sleep  had  much  to  do  with  my 
giddiness;  at  any  rate,  the  grassy  slope  had  begun 
all  of  a  sudden  to  heave  and  whirl  at  my  feet. 

"  Drat  the  boy !    He^s  beginning  now !  " 

"  Take  me  home,"  I  implored  her,  stammering. 
"  Please,  Miss  Belcher " 

"  ]^ow,  I'll  lay  three  to  one,"  said  Miss  Belcher, 
holding  me  off  and  regarding  me,  "  that  no  one  has 
thought  of  giving  this  child  an  honest  breakfast. 
And  " — she  turned  on  Mr.  Jack  Rogers — "  you  call 
yourself  a  justice  of  the  peace!  " 


135 


CHAPTER    XIV 

HOW    I    BROKE    OUT    THE    RED    ENSIGN 

We  were  seated  in  council  in  the  little  parlor  of 
Minden  Cottage — Miss  Belcher,  Miss  Plinlimmon, 
Mr.  Jack  Rogers,  Mr.  Goodfellow,  and  I.  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  had  been  included  at  Miss  Belcher's  particular 
request.  Constable  Hosken  had  been  despatched  to 
search  the  plantation  thoroughly  and  to  report.  Two 
other  constables  had  arrived,  and  were  coping,  in 
front  and  rear  of  the  cottage,  with  a  steady  if  strag- 
gling incursion  of  visitors  from  the  near  villages 
and  hamlets  of  St.  Germans,  Hessenford,  Bake,  and 
Catchfrench,  drawn  by  reports  of  a  second  murder 
to  come  and  stand  and  gaze  at  the  premises.  The 
report  among  them  (as  I  learned  afterwards)  ran 
that  a  second  body — alleged  by  some  to  be  mine,  by 
others  to  be  Ann  the  cook's — had  been  discovered 
lying  in  its  own  blood  in  the  attic;  but  the  marvel 
was  how  the  report  could  have  spread  at  all,  since 
Miss  Belcher  had  sworn  the  two  woodmen  to  secrecy. 
"Whoever  spread  it  could  have  known  very  little,  for 

136 


HOW  I  BROKE  OUT  THE  RED  ENSIGK 

the  sightseers  wasted  all  their  curiosity  on  the  house 
and  concerned  themselves  not  at  all  with  the  plan- 
tation. 

From  the  plantation  Miss  Belcher  had  led  me 
straight  to  the  house,  and  there  in  the  darkened  par- 
lor I  had  told  my  story,  corroborated  here  and  there 
by  Mr.  Goodfellow.  In  the  intervals  of  my  narra- 
tive Miss  Belcher  insisted  on  my  swallowing  great 
spoonfuls  of  hot  bread-and-milk,  against  which — 
faint  though  I  was  and  famished — my  gorge  rose. 
Also  the  ordeal  of  gulping  it  under  four  pairs  of  eyes 
was  not  a  light  one.  But  Miss  Belcher  insisted,  and 
Miss  Belcher  stood  no  nonsense. 

I  told  them  of  my  acquaintance  with  Captain 
Coffin;  how  he  had  invited  me  to  his  lodgings  and 
promised  me  wealth;  of  his  studying  navigation,  of 
his  reference  to  the  island  and  the  treasure  hidden 
on  it,  and  of  the  one  occasion  when  he  vouchsafed 
me  a  glimpse  of  the  chart ;  of  the  French  prisoner, 
Aaron  Glass,  and  how  we  escaped  from  him,  and  of 
the  plan  we  arranged  together  at  the  old  windmill ; 
how  Captain  Danny  had  taken  boat  to  board  the  St. 
Mawes  packet ;  how  the  man  Glass  had  followed  ;  how 
I  had  visited  the  lodgings,  and  of  the  confusion  I 
found  there.  I  described  the  ex-prisoner's  appear- 
ance and  clothing  in  detail,  and  here  I  had  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  to  confirm  me  under  cross-examination. 

137 


POISON    ISLAND 

"  An'  the  cap'n,"  said  he,  "  was  afraid  of  him.  I 
give  you  my  word,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  never  saw 
a  man  worse  scared  in  my  life.  Put  up  his  hands, 
he  did,  an'  fairly  screeched,  an'  bolted  out  o'  the 
door  with  his  arm  linked  in  the  lad's." 

Three  or  four  times  in  the  course  of  my  narrative 
I  happened  to  thrust  my  hands  into  my  breeches- 
pocket,  and  w^as  reminded  of  the  gold  eyeglass  con- 
cealed there.  I  had  managed  very  artfully  to  keep 
Captain  Branscome  entirely  out  of  the  story,  but 
twice  under  examination  I  was  forced  to  mention 
him — and  each  time,  curiously  enough,  in  answer  to 
a  question  of  Miss  Belcher's. 

"  You  are  sure  this  Captain  Coffin  showed  the 
chart  to  no  one  but  yourself  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  pretty  sure,  ma'am." 

"  There  was  always  a  tale  about  Palmouth  that 
Cap'n  Danny  had  struck  a  buried  treasure,"  said  Mr. 
Goodfellow.  "  'Twas  a  joke  in  the  publics,  and  with 
the  street  boys ;  but  I  never  heard  tell  till  now  that 
any  one  took  it  serious." 

"  He  was  learning  navigation,"  mused  Miss 
Belcher.     "  What  was  the  name  of  his  teacher?  " 

"  A  Captain  Branscome,  ma'am.  He's  a  teacher 
at  Stimcoe's." 

"  Lives  in  the  house,  does  he  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am." 

138 


HOW    I    BROKE    OUT    THE    RED    ENSIGIs" 

"  A  Captain  Branscome,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  He's  a  retired  packet  captain,  and 
lame  of  one  leg.  Every  one  in  Falmouth  knows  Cap- 
tain Branscome." 

"  H'm !  Wouldn't  this  Captain  Branscome  won- 
der a  little  that  a  man  of  your  friend's  age,  and 
(we'll  say)  a  bit  wrong  in  his  head,  should  want  to 
learn  navigation  ?  " 

"  He  might,  ma'am." 

"  He  certainly  would,"  snapped  Miss  Belcher. 
"  And  wouldn't  this  Captain  Branscome  know  it 
was  perfectly  useless  to  teach  such  a  man  ?  " 

"  I  dare  say  he  would,  ma'am,"  I  answered,  guilt- 
ily recalling  Captain  Branscome's  own  words  to  me 
on  this  subject. 

"  Then  why  did  he  take  the  man's  money,  eh  ? 
Well,  go  on  with  your  story." 

I  breathed  more  easily  for  a  while,  but  by  and  by, 
when  I  came  to  tell  of  the  discussion  by  the  old  wind- 
mill, I  felt  her  eyes  upon  me  again. 

"  Wait  a  moment.  Captain  Coffin  gave  you  a  key, 
and  this  key  was  to  open  the  corner  cupboard  in  his 
lodgings.  Wasn't  it  rather  foolish  of  him  to  send 
you,  seeing  that  this  Aaron  Glass  had  seen  you  in 
his  company,  and  would  recognize  you  if  he  were 
watching  the  premises,  which  was  just  what  you  both 
feared  ?  " 

139 


POISOX    ISLAND 

"  He  didn't  count  on  me  to  go,"  I  admitted ;  "  at 
least,  not  first  along." 

"  On  whom,  then  ?  " 

"  On  Captain  Branscome,  ma'am." 

"  Oh !  Did  he  send  you  with  that  message  to 
Captain  Branscome  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  tell  us  so  ?  Well,  when 
you  took  the  message,  what  did  Captain  Branscome 
say  ?    And  why  didn't  he  go  ?  " 

"  He  was  not  at  home,  ma'am.  Mr.  Stimcoe  had 
given  us  a  holiday  in  honor  of  the  prisoners." 

"  I  see.  So  Captain  Branscome  was  off  on  an  out- 
ing ?    When  did  he  return  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  see  him  that  evening,  ma'am." 

"  That's  not  an  answer  to  my  question.  I  asked. 
When  did  he  return  ?  " 

"  Not  until  yesterday  afternoon." 

I  had  to  think  before  giving  this  answer,  so  long 
a  stretch  of  time  seemed  to  lie  between  me  and  yester- 
day afternoon. 

"  Where  had  he  been  spending  his  holiday  mean- 
while ?  " 

"  He  didn't  tell  me,  ma'am." 

"  At  all  events,  he  didn't  turn  up  for  school 
next  day,  nor  the  next  again,  until  the  afternoon. 
Queer  sort  of  academy,  Stimcoe's.     Did  Mr.  Stim- 

140 


HOW  I  BROKE  OUT  THE  RED  EXSIGX 

coe  make  any  remark  on  his  under-teacher's  ab' 
sence?  " 

"  1^0,  ma'am." 

"  The  school  went  on  just  as  usual  ?  " 

"  ISTo-o,  ma'am  " — I  hesitated — "  not  quite  just  as 
usual.    Mr.  Stimcoe  was  unwell." 

" Drunk  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Miss  Belcher !  "  put  in  the  scandalized 
Plinny.     "  A  scholar,  and  such  a  gentleman !  " 

"  Fiddlestick-end !  "  snapped  the  unconscionable 
lady,  not  removing  her  eyes  from  mine.  "  Was  this 
man  Stimcoe  drunk,  eh  ?  'No ;  I  beg  your  pardon," 
she  corrected  herself.  "  I  oughtn't  to  be  asking  a 
boy  to  tell  tales  out  of  school.  '  Thou  shalt  not  say 
anything  to  get  another  fellow  into  trouble ' — that's 
the  first  and  last  commandment — eh,  Harry  Brooks  ? 
But,  my  good  soul  " — she  turned  on  Plinny — "  if 
'  drunk  and  incapable  '  isn't  written  over  the  whole 
of  that  seminary,  you  may  call  me  a  Dutchwoman ! 


» 


"  There's  a  point  or  so  clear  enough,"  she  an- 
nounced, after  a  pause,  when  I  had  finished  my 
story. 

"  We  must  placard  the  whole  country  with  a  de- 
scription of  that  prisoner  fellow  Glass,"  said  Mr. 
Jack  Rogers ;  "  and  I'd  best  be  off  to  Falmouth  and 
get  the  bills  printed  at  once." 

141 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

"  Indeed?  "  said  Miss  Belcher  dryly.  "  And  pray 
how  are  you  proposing  to  describe  him  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  for  that,  I  should  have  thought  Harry's 
description  here,  backed  up  by  Mr.  Goodfellow's,  was 
enough  to  lay  a  trail  upon  any  man.  My  dear  Lydia, 
a  fellow  roaming  the  country  in  a  red  coat,  drill 
trousers,  and  a  japanned  hat !  " 

"  It  would  obviously  excite  remark — so  obviously 
that  the  likelihood  might  even  occur  to  the  man  him- 
self!" 

Mr.  Rogers  looked  crestfallen  for  a  moment. 

"  You  suggest  that  by  this  time  he  has  changed 
his  rig? " 

"  I  suggest,  rather,  that  he  started  by  changing  it, 
say,  as  far  back  as  St.  Mawes.  Some  one  must  ride 
to  St.  Mawes  at  once  and  make  inquiries."  Miss 
Belcher  drummed  her  fingers  on  the  table.  "  But 
the  man,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "  will  have  reached 
Plymouth  long  before  this." 

"  You  don't  think  it  ix)ssible  he  went  back  the 
same  way  he  came  ?  " 

"  In  a  world,  Jack,  where  you  find  yourself  a 
magistrate,  all  things  are  possible.  But  I  don't  think 
it  at  all  likely." 

"  Yet  I  still  fail  to  see,"  urged  Plinny,  "  why  our 
dear  Major  should  have  fallen  a  victim." 

"  It's  plain  as  a  pikestaff,  if  you'll  excuse  me," 

142 


HOW    I    BROKE    OUT    THE    EED    EJ^SIGN 

Mr.  Rogers  answered  her.  "  This  Coffin  carried  the 
chart  on  him,  meaning  to  deliver  it  into  the  Major's 
keeping.  He  came  here,  entered  the  garden  by  the 
side-gate,  found  the  Major  in  the  summer-house,  told 
his  story,  handed  over  the  chart,  and  was  making  his 
way  back  to  the  highroad  through  the  plantation, 
when  he  came  full  on  this  man  Aaron  Glass,  who  had 
tracked  him  all  the  way  from  St.  Mawes.  Glass  fell 
on  him,  murdered  him,  rifled  his  pockets,  and,  find- 
ing nothing — but  having  some  hint,  perhaps — pur- 
sued his  way  to  the  garden  here.  There  in  the  sum- 
mer-house he  found  the  Major,  who  meanwhile  had 
fetched  his  cashbox  from  the  house  and  locked  the 
chart  up  in  it.     What  followed,  any  one  can  guess." 

"  Not  a  bad  theory.  Jack !  "  murmured  Miss 
Belcher,  still  drumming  softly  on  the  table.  "  In- 
deed, 'tis  the  only  explanation,  but  for  one  or  two 
things  against  it." 

"  For  instance  ?  " 

"  Eor  instance,  I  don't  see  why  the  Major  should 
want  to  go  to  the  house  and  bring  back  his  cashbox 
to  the  garden.  Surely  the  simple  thing  was  to  take 
the  paper,  or  whatever  it  was,  straight  to  the  house, 
lock  it  up,  and  leave  the  cashbox  in  its  usual  place! 
I  don't  see,  either,  what  that  box  was  doing,  later 
on,  in  the  brook  below  my  lodge-gate ;  for,  by  every 
chance  that  I  can  reckon,  the  murderer — supposing 

143 


POISOX    ISLAND 

him  to  he  this  man  Glass — would  liave  pushed  on  in 
haste  for  Plymouth,  Avhereas  my  lodge-gate  lies  half 
a  mile  in  the  opposite  direction." 

"  Are  those  all  your  objections  ?  "  asked  !Mr.  Rog- 
ers. "  Because,  if  so,  I  must  say  they  don't  amount 
to  much." 

''  They  don't  amount  to  much,"  Miss  Belcher 
agreed,  "  hut  they  don't,  on  the  other  hand,  quite 
cover  all  my  doubts.  However,  there's  less  doubt, 
luckily,  about  the  next  step  to  be  taken.  You  send 
Hosken  or  some  one  to  Torpoint  Ferry  to  inquire 
what  strangers  have  crossed  for  Plymouth  during 
these  forty-eight  hours.  You  meanwhile  borrow  my 
roan  filly — your  own  mare  is  dead-beat — clap  her  in 
the  tilbury,  and  off  you  go  to  St.  Mawes,  and  find 
out  how  this  man  Glass  got  hold  of  a  change  of 
clothes.  Take  Mr.  Goodfellow  with  you,  and  while 
you  are  playing  detective  at  St.  Mawes  he  can  cross 
over  to  Falmouth  and  fetch  along  that  corner  cup- 
board. Harry  has  the  key,  and  we'll  open  it  here 
and  read  what  the  captain  has  to  say  in  this  famous 
roll  of  paper.  It  won't  do  more  than  tantalize  us, 
I  very  much  fear,  seeing  that  the  chart  has  disap- 
peared, and  likely  enough  forever." 

But  it  had  not. 

It  so  happened  that  while  I  stood  by  my  father's 

144 


now    I    BROKE    OUT    THE    RED    ENSIGN 

bedside  that  morning  I  had  noticed  a  flag,  rolled  in 
a  bundle  and  laid  upon  a  chest  of  drawers  beside  his 
dressinff-table.  I  concluded  at  once  that  Plinnv  had 
fetched  it  from  the  summer-house  to  spread  over  his 
coffin. 

Women  know  nothing  about  flags.  This  one  was 
a  red  ensign,  in  those  days  a  purely  naval  flag,  car- 
ried (since  Trafalgar)  by  the  highest  rank  of  ad- 
mirals. Ashore,  anyone  could  hoist  it,  but  the  flag 
to  cover  a  soldier's  body  was  the  flag  of  Union. 

This  had  crossed  my  mind  when  I  caught  sight 
of  the  red  ensign  on  the  chest  of  drawers ;  and  again 
in  the  summer-house,  as  I  lifted  the  lid  of  the  flag- 
locker  and  noted  the  finger-marks  in  the  dust  upon 
it,  I  guessed  that  Plinny  had  visited  it  with  pious 
purpose,  and,  woman-like,  chosen  the  first  flag  handy. 
1  had  meant  to  repair  her  mistake,  and  again  had 
forgotten  my  intention. 

Mr.  Jack  Rogers  had  driven  off  for  St.  Mawes, 
with  Mr.  Goodfellow  in  the  tilbury  beside  him. 
Constable  Hosken  was  on  his  way  to  Torpoint.  Miss 
Belcher  had  withdrawn  to  her  great  house,  after  in- 
sisting that  I  must  be  fed  once  more  and  packed 
straight  off  to  bed ;  and  fed  I  duly  was,  and  tucked 
between  sheets,  to  sleep,  exhausted,  very  nearly  the 
round  of  the  clock. 

Footsteps  awoke  me — footsteps  on  the  landing  out- 

145 


POISON    ISLAND 

side  my  bedroom.  I  sat  up,  guessing  at  once  that 
tliej  were  the  footsteps  of  the  carpenter  and  his  men, 
arrived  in  the  dawn  with  the  shell  of  my  father's 
coffin.  Almost  at  once  I  remembered  the  red  en- 
sign, and,  waiting  until  the  footsteps  withdrew,  stole 
across,  half-dressed,  to  my  father's  room  to  change 
it.  The  faint  rays  of  dawn  drifted  in  through  the 
closed  blinds.  The  coffin-shell  lay  the  length  of  the 
bed,  and  in  it  his  body.  The  carpenter's  men  had 
left  it  uncovered.  In  the  dim  light,  no  doubt,  they 
had  overlooked  the  flag,  which  I  felt  for  and  found. 
Tucking  it  under  my  arm,  I  closed  the  door  and  tip- 
toed downstairs,  let  myself  out  at  the  back,  and  stole 
out  to  the  summer-house. 

There  was  light  enough  within  to  help  me  in  se- 
lecting the  Union  flag  from  the  half-dozen  within 
the  locker.  I  was  about  to  stow  the  red  ensign  in 
its  place  when  I  bethought  me  that,  day  being  so 
near,  I  might  as  well  bend  a  flag  upon  the  flagstaff 
halliards  and  half-mast  it. 

So,  with  the  Union  flag  under  one  arm,  I  carried 
out  the  red  ensign,  bent  it  carefully,  still  in  a  roll, 
and  hoisted  it  to  the  truck.  In  half-masting  a  flag, 
you  first  hoist  it  in  a  bundle,  seaman  fashion,  to  the 
masthead,  break  it  out  there,  and  thence  lower  it  to 
the  position  at  which  you  make  fast. 

I  felt  the  flag's  toggle  jam  chock-a-block  against 

146 


HOW  I  BEOKE  OUT  THE  RED  EXSIGX 

the  truck  of  the  staff,  and  gave  a  tug,  shaking  out 
the  flag  to  the  still  morning  breeze.  A  second  later 
something  thudded  on  the  turf  close  at  my  feet. 

I  stared  at  it ;  but  the  halliards  were  in  my  hand, 
and  before  picking  it  up  I  must  wait  and  make  them 
fast  on  the  cleat.  Still  I  stared  at  it,  there  where 
it  lay  on  the  dim  turf. 

And  still  I  stared  at  it.  Either  I  was  dreaming 
yet,  or  this — this  thing  that  had  fallen  from  heaven 
— was  the  oilskin  that  had  wrapped  Captain  Coffin's 
chart. 

I  stooped  to  pick  it  up.  At  that  instant  the  side- 
gate  rattled,  and  with  a  start  I  faced,  in  the  half- 
light — Captain  Branscome ! 


147 


CHAPTER    XV 

CAPTAIN  BRANSCOMe's   CONFESSION THE   MAN   IN 

THE    LANE 

He  opened  the  gate  and  came  across  the  turf  to 
me.  I  observed  that  his  hand  trembled  on  his  walk- 
ing-cane, and  that  he  dragged  his  injured  leg  with  a 
worse  limp  than  usual ;  also — but  the  uncertain  light 
maj  have  had  something  to  do  with  this — his  face 
seemed  of  one  color  with  the  gray  dust  that  pow- 
dered his  shoes. 

"  Good-morning,  Harry." 

"  Good-morning,  sir,"  I  answered,  crushing  the  oil- 
skin into  my  pocket  and  waiting  for  his  explanation. 

"  You  are  surprised  to  see  me  ?     The  fact  is,  I 

have  something  to  tell  you,  and  could  not  rest  easy 

till  it  was  off  my  mind.     I  have  travelled  here  by 

Russell's  wagon,*  but  have  trudged  a  good  part  of 

*  Russell's  wagons— " Russell  and  Co.,  Falmouth  to  London" 
— were  huge  vehicles  that  plied  along  the  Great  West  Road  under 
an  escort  of  soldiers,  and  conveyed  the  bullion  and  other  treasure 
landed  at  Falmouth  by  the  Post  Office  packets.  They  were  drawn, 
always  at  a  foot-pace,  by  teams  of  six  stout  horses.  The  wagoner 
rodo  beside  on  a  pony,  and  inside  sat  a  man  armed  with  pistols  and 
blunderbuss.  Poor  travellers  used  those  wagons  up  to  the  days  of 
railways,  walking  by  day,  and  sleeping  by  night  beneath  the  tilt. 

148 


CAPTAIN   BRxlNSCOME'S   CONFESSION 

the  way,  as  you  see."  He  glanced  down  at  his  shoes. 
"  The  pace  was  too  slow  for  my  impatience.  I  could 
get  no  sleep.  Though  it  brought  me  here  no  faster, 
I  had  to  vent  my  energies  in  walking."  His  sen- 
tences followed  one  another  by  jerks,  in  a  nervous 
flurry.    "  You  are  surprised  to  see  me  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  sir,  partly  I  am  and  partly  I 
am  not.  It  took  me  aback  just  now  to  see  you  stand- 
ing there  by  the  gate ;  and,"  said  I  more  boldly,  "  it 
puzzles  me  yet  how  you  came  there  and  not  to  the 
front  door,  for  you  couldn't  have  expected  to  find 
me  here  in  the  garden  at  this  time  in  the  morning." 

"  True,  Harry;  I  did  not."  He  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  went  on.  "  It  is  truth,  lad,  that  I  meant 
to  knock  at  your  front  door,  by  and  by,  and  ask  for 
you.  But,  the  hour  being  over-early  for  calling,  I 
had  a  mind,  before  rousing  you  out  of  bed,  to  walk 
down  the  lane  and  have  a  look  over  your  garden  gate. 
Nay,"  he  corrected  himself,  "  I  do  not  put  it  quite 
honestly,  even  yet.     I  came  in  search  of  something." 

"  I  can  save  you  the  trouble,  perhaps,"  said  I,  and, 
diving  a  hand  into  my  breech-j)ocket,  I  pulled  out 
the  gold-rimmed  eyeglasses. 

He  made  no  offer  to  take  them,  though  I  held  them 
out  to  him  on  my  open  palm,  but  fell  back  a  step, 
and,  after  a  glance  at  them,  lifted  his  eyes  and  met 
mine  honestly,  albeit  with  a  trouble  in  his  face. 

149 


POISON    ISLAND 

"  You  found  them  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  To  whom  have  you  shown  them  ?  " 

"  To  nobody." 

"  Yet  there  has  been  some  inquiry  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

"  At  which  you  were  present  ?  " 

I  nodded  again. 

"  And  you  said  nothing  of  this — this  piece  of  evi- 
dence ?     "Why?" 

"  Because  "  —  I  hesitated  for  a  couple  of  sec- 
onds and  then  gulped  hesitation  down — "  because 
I  could  not  believe  that  you  —  that  you  were 
really " 

"  You  could  not  believe  that  I  was  guilty  ?  Thank 
you,  Harry." 

"  All  the  same,  sir,  your  name  was  mentioned." 

"  Eh  ?  "  He  was  plainly  astonished.  "  My  name 
mentioned  ?  But  why  ?  IIow  ?  Since  no  one  saw 
me  here,  and  if,  as  you  say,  you  hid  this  only  evi- 
dence  " 

"  It  came  up,  sir,  when  they  examined  me  about 
Captain  Danny.  You  know  —  do  you  not  ?  —  that 
they  have  found  his  body,  too." 

"  I  heard  the  news  being  cried  in  Truro  streets  as 
w^e  came  through.  Poor  old  Coffin  murdered !  It  is 
all  mystery  to  me — mystery  on  mystery.  But  how  on 

150 


CAPTAIN   BRANSCOME'S   CONFESSION 

earth  should  my  name  have  come  np  in  connection 
with  him  ?  " 

"  Why,  about  your  teaching  him  navigation,  sir." 

Captain  Branscome  passed  a  hand  over  his  fore- 
head. 

"  Navigation?  Yes;  to  be  sure,  I  taught  him  navi- 
gation— or,  rather,  tried  to.     But  what  of  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir.  Miss  Belcher  seemed  to  think  it  sus- 
picious." 

Captain  Branscome  reached  out  a  hand,  and,  tak- 
ing the  glasses  from  me,  sat  down  upon  the  stone 
base  of  the  flagstaff,  and  began  feebly  to  polish  them. 

"  Impossible!  "  he  said  faintly,  as  if  to  himself; 
then  aloud :  "  The  man  was  a  friend  of  yours,  too, 
wasn't  he  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir !  if  you  mean  Captain  Coffin,  he  was  a 
friend  of  mine." 

"  And  of  mine ;  and,  as  you  say,  he  came  to  me 
to  learn  navigation.  Now,  what  connection  there 
can  be  between  that  and  his  being  murdered  a  dozen 
miles  inland " 

But  here  he  broke  off,  and  we  both  looked  up  and 
across  the  stream  as,  with  a  click  of  the  latch,  the 
door  there  creaked  and  opened,  and  Miss  Belcher  en- 
tered the  garden.  She  wore  an  orange-colored  dress- 
ing-gown, top-boots  to  guard  her  ankles  from  the 
morning  dew,  a  red  kerchief  tied  over  her  brow  to 

151 


POISOX    ISLAND 

keep  her  iron-gray  locks  in  place,  and  over  it  her 
customary  beaver  hat — et  vera  incessu  patuit  dea. 
Even  thus  attired  did  Miss  Belcher,  a  goddess  of  the 
dawn,  come  striding  over  the  footbridge  and  across 
the  turf  to  us ;  and  the  effect  of  this  apparition  upon 
Captain  Branscome's  nerves,  after  a  night  of  travel 
alongside  Russell's  van,  I  can  only  surmise.  I  did 
not  observe  it,  having  for  the  moment  no  eyes  for 
him. 

"  Hallo !  "  said  Miss  Belcher,  walking  straight  up 
to  us,  and  halting,  with  a  hand  planted,  washer- 
Avoman  fashion,  on  either  hip,  as  Captain  Branscome 
staggered  to  his  feet  and  saluted.  "  Hallo !  who's 
this?" 

"  Captain  Branscome,  ma'am,"  stammered  I. 

"  I  thought  as  much.  And  what  is  Captain  Brans- 
come doing  here  ?  " 

"  By  your  leave,  ma'am,"  said  Captain  Brans- 
come, "  I — I  was  just  dropping  in  for  a  talk  here 
with  my  friend  Harry  Brooks." 

"  H'm !  "  sniffed  Miss  Belcher,  and  eyed  him  up 
and  down  for  a  full  ten  seconds  with  an  uncompro- 
mising stare.  "  As  an  explanation,  sir,  you  will 
allow  that  to  be  a  trifle  unsatisfactory.  What  have 
you  been  eating  lately  ?  " 

"  Madam  ?  " 
Captain  Branscome  stared  at  her  in  weak  bewil- 

152 


CAPTAIN   BKANSCOME'S   CONFESSION 

derment;  and,  indeed,  the  snort  which  accompanied 
Miss  Belcher's  question  seemed  to  accuse  him  of  im- 
pregnating the  morning  air  with  a  scent  of  onions. 

"  You  can  answer  a  plain  question,  I  hope  ?  "  said 
she.     "  When  did  you  eat  last,  and  what  was  it  ?  " 

"  To  he  precise,  ma'am — though  I  don't  under- 
stand you — it  was  an  apple,  and  about — let  me  see — 
seven  hours  ago." 

Miss  Belcher  nodded. 

"  In  other  words,  the  man's  starving.  I  don't 
blame  you,  Harry  Brooks.  One  can't  look  for  old 
heads  on  young  shoulders.  But,  for  goodness'  sake, 
take  the  man  into  the  house  and  give  him  something 
to  eat !  He's  starving ;  and,  by  the  look  on  his  face, 
he  hasn't  squared  himself  to  a  meal  since  the  Lord 
knows  when." 

"  Madam — "  again  began  Captain  Branscome,  still 
a  prey  to  that  mental  paralysis  which  Miss  Belch- 
er's costume  and  appearance  ever  produced  upon 
strangers,  and  for  which  she  never  made  the  smallest 
allowance. 

"  Don't  tell  me !  "  she  snapped.  "  I  breed  stock 
and  I  buy  'em — I  know  the  signs." 

"  I  was  about  to  suggest,  ma'am,  that — travel- 
stained  as  I  am — a  wash  and  a  shave  would  be  even 
more  refreshing." 

"  Il'm !     You're  one  of  those  people — eh  ? — that 

153 


rOISOX    ISLAND 

study  appearances  ?  "  In  the  art  of  disconcerting 
by  simple  interrogation  I  never  knew  Miss  Belch- 
er's peer,  whether  for  swiftness,  range,  or  variety. 
"  Brought  a  razor  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Take  him  to  the  house,  Harry ;  but  first  show 
me  where  the  hens  have  been  laying." 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  Captain  Branscome,  washed, 
brushed,  and  freshly  shaven,  descended  to  the  break- 
fast parlor,  Miss  Belcher  entered  the  house  by  the 
back  door,  with  her  hat  full  of  new-laid  eggs. 

"  ISTothing  like  a  raw  egg  to  start  the  day  upon," 
she  announced.  "  I  suck  'em,  for  my  part;  but  some 
prefer  'em  beaten  up  in  a  dish  of  tea." 

She  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and  beat  up 
one  in  the  Captain's  teacup  while  Plinny  carved  him 
a  slice  of  ham. 

"  Ladies,"  he  protested,  "  I  am  ashamed.  I  do 
not  deserve  this  hospitality.  If  you  would  allow  me 
first  to  tell  my  story !  " 

"  Fiddlestick-end !  "  said  Miss  Belcher.  "  You're 
all  right.  Couldn't  hurt  a  fly,  if  you  wanted  to. 
There!  Eat  up  your  breakfast,  and  then  you  can 
tell  us  all  about  it." 

The  two  ladies  had,  each  in  her  wav,  a  knack  of 
making  her  meaning  clear  without  subservience  to 
the  strict  forms  of  speech. 

154 


CAPTAIN   BRANSCOME'S   COXFESSIOX 

"  It  will  be  a  weight  off  one's  mind,"  declared 
Plinny,  "  even  if  it  should  prove  to  be  the  last 
straw," 

"  There's  one  thing  to  be  thankful  for,"  chimed 
in  Miss  Belcher,  "  and  that  is,  Jack  Rogers  has  gone 
to  St.  Mawes.  When  there's  serious  business  to  be 
discussed  I  alwavs  thank  a  Providence  that  clears 
the  men  out  of  the  way." 

I  glanced  at  Captain  Branscome.  He — poor  man 
— had  come  with  no  intention  at  all  of  unbosoming 
himself  before  a  couple  of  ladies.  He  desired — de- 
sired desperately,  I  felt  sure — to  confide  in  me  alone. 
But  Miss  Belcher's  off-handish  air  of  authority  com- 
pletely nonplussed  him ;  he  sat  helplessly  fidgeting 
with  his  breakfast-plate. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  ladies,"  he  began,  "  I  had 
not  expected  this — this  audience.  It  finds  me,  in  a 
manner  of  speaking,  unprepared."  He  ran  a  finger 
around  the  edge  of  his  saucer  after  the  manner  of 
one  performing  on  the  musical  glasses,  and  threw  a 
hunted  glance  at  the  window,  as  though  for  a  way 
of  escape.  "  My  name,  ladies,  is  Branscome.  I  was 
once  well-to-do,  and  commanded  a  packet  in  the  ser- 
vice of  his  Majesty's  Postmasters-General.  But  times 
have  altered  with  me,  and  I  am  now  an  usher  in  a 
school,  and  a  very  poor  man." 

He  paused ;  looked  up  at  Miss  Belcher,  who  had 

155 


POISON    ISLAND 

squared  her  elbows  on  the  table  in  very  unlady- 
like fashion;  and  cleared  his  throat  before  pro- 
ceeding: 

"  You  will  excuse  me  for  mentioning  this,  but  it 
is  an  essential  part  of  the  story.  My  poverty,  ladies 
— ashamed  as  I  am  to  mention  it — is  not  of  that 
mild,  if  distressing,  kind  which  sometimes  has  to 
plead  for  time  to  pay  its  rent.  I  have  always  kept 
up  the  rent  for  my  lodgings,  but  occasionally  at  the 
expense  of  my — ^my " 

"  Stomach,"  prompted  Miss  Belcher.  "  The  Stim- 
eoes — is  that  their  name  ? — didn't  pay  up — eh  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Stimcoe  —  though  a  scholar,  ma'am  —  has 
suffered  from  time  to  time  from  pecuniary  embar- 
rassment." 

"  Traceable  to  drink,"  interpolated  Miss  Belcher, 
wuth  a  nod  towards  Plinny.  "  No,  sir ;  you  need  not 
look  at  Harry:  lie  has  told  us  nothing.  I  formed 
my  own  conclusions." 

"  Mrs.  Stimcoe,  ma'am — for  I  should  tell  vou  she 
keeps  the  purse — is  too  often  unable  to  make  two 
ends  meet,  as  the  saying  is.  I  believe  she  paid  when 
she  could,  but  somehow  my  salary  has  always  been 
in  arrear.  I  have  used  remonstrance  with  her,  be- 
fore now,  to  a  degree  which  it  shames  me  to  remem- 
ber ;  yet,  in  spite  of  it,  I  have  sometimes  found  my- 
self on  a  Saturday,  after  a  week's  work,  without  a 

156 


CAPTAIN  BRANSCOME'S   CONFESSION 

loaf  of  bread  in  the  cupboard.  Eorgive  these 
personal  details,  ladies;  they  are  material  to  my 
story." 

"  Go  on,  sir." 

"  I  doubt,  ma'am,  if  any  one  who  has  not  experi- 
enced it  can  wholly  understand  the  power  of  mere 
hunger  to  degrade  a  man;  to  what  lengths  he  can 
be  urged,  willy-nilly,  as  it  were,  by  the  instinct  to 
satisfy  it.  There  were  Sabbaths,  ma'am,  when  to 
attend  divine  worship  seemed  a  mockery ;  the  craving 
drove  me  away  from  all  congregations  of  Christian 
men  and  out  into  the  fields,  where — I  tell  it  with 
shame,  ma'am — I  have  stolen  turnips  and  eaten  them 
raw,  loathing  the  deed  even  worse  than  I  loathed  the 
vegetable,  for  the  taste  of  which — I  may  say — I  have 
a  singular  aversion.  Well,  among  my  pupils  was 
Harry  here,  whom  I  discovered  to  be  the  son  of  an 
old  friend  of  mine.  I  dare  to  call  the  late  Major 
James  Brooks  a  friend  in  spite  of  the  difference  be- 
tween our  stations  in  life — a  difference  he  himself 
was  good  enough  to  forget.  Our  acquaintance  be- 
gan on  the  '  Londonderry '  transport,  which  I  com- 
manded, and  in  which  I  brought  him  home  from 
Corunna  to  Plymouth  in  the  January  of  1809.  It 
ended  with  the  conclusion  of  that  short  and  anxious 
passage.  But  I  had  always  remembered  Major 
Brooks  as  one  who  approached,  if  ever  man  did,  the 

157 


POISON    ISLAND 

ideal  of  an  officer  and  a  gentleman.  Now,  at  first, 
ladies,  the  discovery  suggested  no  thought  to  me  be- 
yond the  pleasure  of  knowing  that  my  old  friend 
was  alive  and  hale  and — shall  I  say  ? — the  hope  of 
seeing  Harry  grow  up  to  be  as  good  a  man  as  his 
father.  But  by  and  by — if  you  cannot  understand, 
yet  remember  I  have  warned  you  how  such  want  as 
mine  can  degrade — I  found  a  thought  waking  and 
growing,  and  awake  again  and  itching  after  I  had 
done  my  best  to  kill  it,  that  the  Major  might  be 
moved  by  the  story  of  an  old  shipmate  brought  so 
low.  God  forgive  me,  ladies !  "  Captain  Branscome 
put  up  a  hand  to  cover  his  brow.  "  The  very  telling 
of  it  degrades  me  over  again;  but  I  came  here  to 
make  a  clean  breast,  and  there  is  no  way  but  to  tell 
all  the  truth.  I  had  cross-examined  Harry  about  the 
Major  and  his  habits — not  always  allowing  to  myself 
why  I  asked  him  many  trivial  questions.  And  then 
suddenly  the  temptation  came  to  a  head.  Certain 
Englishmen  discharged  from  the  French  war-prisons 
were  landed  at  Plymouth.  The  town  turned  out  to 
welcome  the  poor  fellows  home,  and  the  Major  enter- 
tained them  at  a  banquet,  to  which  also  he  invited 
some  two  hundred  townsmen.  Among  the  guests  he 
was  good  enough  to  include  me ;  for  it  has  been  a 
consolation  to  me,  ladies,  and  a  source  of  pride,  that 
my  friends  in  Falmouth  have  not  withdrawn  in  ad- 

158 


CAPTAIlSr   BRANSCOME'S   CONFESSION" 

versitj  the  respect  which  in  old  days  my  uniform 
commanded." 

"  CajDtain  Branscome  is  not  telling  you  the  half 
of  it,"  I  broke  in  eagerly.  "  Every  one  in  Falmouth 
knows  him  to  be  a  hero.  Why,  he  has  a  sword  of 
honor  at  home,  given  him  for  one  of  the  bravest  bat- 
tles ever  fought !  " 

"  Gently,  boy — gently !  "  Captain  Branscome  cor- 
rected me,  with  a  grateful  smile,  albeit  a  sad  one. 
"  Youth  is  generous,  ladies ;  it  sees  these  things 
through  a  haze  which  colors  and  magnifies  them,  and 
■ — and  it's  a  very  poor  kind"  of  hero  you'll  consider 
me  before  I  have  done.  AVhere  was  I  ?  Ah,  yes,  to 
be  sure — the  banquet.  His  Worship  can  little  have 
guessed  what  his  invitation  meant  to  me,  or  that, 
while  others  thanked  him  for  a  compliment,  to  me  it 
offered  a  satisfying  meal  such  as  I  had  not  eaten  for 
months.  Mr.  Stimcoe  had  given  the  school  a  holiday. 
In  short,  I  attended. 

"  I  fear,  ladies,  that  the  food  and  the  generous 
wine  together  must  have  turned  my  head — there  is 
no  other  explanation — for  when  the  meal  was  over 
and  I  sat  with  a  glass  of  port  before  me,  scarcely 
listening  to  the  speeches,  but  fumbling  with  the  half- 
crown  in  my  pocket  which  must  carry  me  over  an- 
other week's  housekeeping,  all  of  a  sudden  the  man 
inside  me  rose  in  revolt.    I  felt  such  poverty  as  mine 

159 


POISON    ISLAND 

to  be  unenduraLle,  and  that  I  was  a  slave,  a  spirit- 
less fool,  to  put  up  with  it.  There  must  be  hundreds 
of  good,  Christian  folk  in  the  world  who  had  only 
to  know  to  stretch  out  a  hand  of  help  and  gladly,  as 
I  would  have  helped  such  a  case  in  the  days  of  my 
own  prosperity.  Kemember,  please,  that  I  am  not 
putting  this  forward  as  a  sober  plea.  I  know  it  now 
to  be  false,  self-cheating,  the  apology  that  every  beg- 
gar makes  for  himself,  the  specious  argument  that 
every  poor  man  must  resist  who  would  hold  fast  by 
his  manhood.  But  there,  with  the  wine  in  me  and 
the  juices  of  good  meat,  the  temptation  took  me  at 
unawares  and  mastered  me  as  I  had  never  allowed 
it  to  master  me  while  I  hungered.  I  saw  the  world 
in  a  sudden  rosy  light;  I  felt  that  my  past  suffer- 
ings had  been  unnecessary.  I  thought  of  Major 
Brooks " 

"Bless  the  man!"  interjected  Miss  Belcher. 
"  He's  coming  to  the  point  at  last." 

"  Your  pardon,  ma'am.  I  will  be  briefer.  I 
thought  of  Major  Brooks.  I  took  a  resolve  there 
and  then  to  extend  my  holiday;  to  walk  hither  to 
Minden  Cottage,  and  lay  my  case  before  him.  The 
banquet  had  no  sooner  broken  up  than  I  started.  I 
reached  Truro  at  nightfall,  and  hired  a  bed  there 
for  sixpence.  Early  next  morning  I  set  forward 
again.     By  this  time  the  impulse  had  died  out  of 

160 


CAPTAIN   BRANSCOME'S   COXFESSIO:?^ 

me,  but  I  still  walked  forward,  playing  with  my  in- 
tention, always  telling  myself  that  I  conld  relinquish 
it,  and  turn  back  to  Falmouth,  cheating — yes,  I  fear 
deliberately  cheating  —  myself  with  the  assurance 
until  more  than  half  the  journey  lay  behind  me,  and 
to  turn  back  would  be  worse  than  pusillanimous.  At 
St.  Austell  a  carrier  offered  me  a  lift,  and  brought 
me  to  Liskeard.  Thence  I  walked  forward  again, 
and  in  the  late  afternoon  came  in  sight  of  Minden 
Cottage. 

"  I  recognized  it  at  once  from  Harry's  description, 
and  at  first  I  was  minded  to  walk  up  and  knock 
boldly  at  the  front  door.  But  remembering  also  the 
lad's  account  of  the  garden  and  how  the  Major  would 
spend  the  best  part  of  his  day  there — and  partly,  I 
fancy,  being  nervous  and  uncertain  with  what  form 
of  words  to  present  myself — I  pulled  up  at  the  angle 
of  the  house,  where  the  lane  comes  up  alongside  the 
garden  wall  to  join  the  road,  and  halted,  to  collect 
myself  and  study  my  bearings. 

"  The  time  was  about  twenty  minutes  after  five, 
and  the  light  pretty  good.  But  the  lane  is  pretty 
well  overgrown,  as  you  know.  I  looked  down  and 
along  it,  and  it  appeared  to  end  in  a  tangle  of  bram- 
bles. I  turned  my  attention  to  the  house,  and  was 
studying  it  through  my  glasses,  taking  stock  of  its 
windows  and  chimneys,  and  generally  (as  you  might 

161 


POISON    ISLAND 

say)  reckoning  it  up,  along  with  the  extent  of  its 
garden,  when,  happening  to  take  another  glance  down 
the  lane,  to  run  a  measure  of  the  garden  wall — or 
perhaps  a  movement  caught  my  eye — I  saw  a  man 
step  across  the  path  between  the  brambles,  out  of  the 
garden,  as  3'ou  might  say,  and  into  the  plantation 
opposite.  The  path  being  so  narrow,  I  glimpsed  him 
for  half  a  second  only.  But  the  glimpse  of  him  gave 
me  a  start,  for,  if  to  suppose  it  had  been  anywise 
possible,  I  could  have  sworn  the  man  was  one  I  had 
known  in  Falmouth  and  left  behind  there." 

"  Captain  Coffin !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Ay,  lad.  Captain  Coffin — Captain  Danny  Coffin. 
But  what  should  he  be  doing  at  Minden  Cottage  ?  " 

"  The  quicker  you  proceed,  sir,"  said  Miss  Belcher, 
rapping  the  table,  "  the  sooner  we  are  likely  to  dis- 
cover." 


162 


CHAPTER    XVI 

Captain  branscome's  confession — the  flag  and 

the  cashbox 

"  Well,  ma'am,"  resumed  Captain  Branscome, 
"  so  strong  was  the  likeness  to  old  Coffin,  and  yet 
SO  incredible  was  it  he  should  be  in  these  parts,  that, 
almost  without  stopping  to  consider,  I  turned  down 
the  lane  on  the  chance  of  another  glimpse  of  the 
man.  This  brought  me,  of  course,  to  the  stile  lead- 
ing into  the  plantation;  but  the  path  there,  as  you 
know,  takes  a  turn  among  the  trees  almost  as  soon 
as  it  starts,  and  runs,  moreover,  through  a  pretty 
thick  undergrowth.  The  fellow,  whoever  he  was,  had 
disappeared. 

"  I  can't  say  but  what  I  was  still  puzzled,  though 
the  likeliest  explanation — indeed,  the  only  likely  one 
— seemed  to  be  that  my  eyes  had  played  me  a  trick. 
I  had  pretty  well  made  up  my  mind  to  this  when  I 
turned  away  from  the  stile  to  have  a  look  at  the  gar- 
den gate  on  the  other  side  of  the  lane;  and  over  it, 
across  the  little  stretch  of  turf,  I  caught  sight  of  the 
summer-house  and  of  Major  Brooks  standing  there 

163 


POISOX    ISLAND 

in  the  doorway  with  a  bundle  between  his  hands — a 
bundle  of  something  red,  which  he  seemed  to  be 
wrapping  round  with  a  piece  of  cord. 

"  Here,  then,  was  the  very  man  I  had  come  to  see ; 
and  here  was  a  chance  of  getting  speech  with  him 
and  without  the  awkwardness  of  asking  it  through  a 
servant,  perhaps  of  having  to  invent  an  excuse  for 
my  visit.  Without  more  ado,  therefore,  I  made  bold 
to  lift  the  latch  of  the  gate  and  step  into  the  garden. 

"  At  the  sound  of  the  latch — I  can  see  him  now — 
Major  Brooks  lifted  his  head  with  a  curious  start, 
and  tucked  the  bundle  under  his  arm.  The  move- 
ment was  like  that  of  a  man  taken  at  unawares,  and 
straightening  himself  up  to  meet  an  attack.  I  can- 
not describe  it  precisely,  but  that  was  just  the  im- 
pression it  made  on  me,  and  it  took  me  aback  for  a 
moment,  so  that  I  paused  as  the  gate  fell  to  and 
latched  itself  behind  me. 

"  '  Halt  there !  '  the  Major  commanded,  facing  me 
full  across  the  turf.  '  Halt,  and  tell  me,  please,  why 
vou  have  come  back !  ' 

"  This  puzzled  me  w^orse  for  a  moment,  for  the 
light  was  good,  though  drawing  towards  sunset,  and 
it  seemed  impossible  that,  looking  straight  at  me,  he 
could  mistake  me  for  the  man  who  had  just  left  the 
garden.  Then  I  remembered  what  Harry  had  told 
me  of  his  father's  blindness. 

164 


CAPTAIN   BRAJS-SCOME'S   CONFESSION 

"  My  silence  naturally  made  him  more  suspicious. 

"  '  Who  is  it  there  ?  Your  name,  please  ? '  he  de- 
manded sharply. 

"  '  Sir/  I  answered,  ^  I  beg  your  pardon  for  coming 
thus  unannounced,  but  my  name  is  Branscome,  and  I 
had  once  the  honor  to  be  shipmate  with  you  on  board 
the  "  Londonderry  "  transport.' 

"  For  a  while  he  continued  to  stare  at  me  with 
those  sightless  eyes  of  his. 

"  '  Yes/  he  said  slowly,  at  length ;  '  yes ;  I  remem- 
ber your  voice,  sir.  But  what  in  the  name  of  wonder 
brings  you  to  my  garden  just  now  ? ' 

"  '  Your  son  Harry,  sir,'  said  I,  '  some  time  ago 
gave  me  a  message  from  you.  If  ever  (he  said)  I 
found  myself  in  the  neighborhood  of  Minden  Cottage 
you  would  be  pleased  to  receive  a  visit  from  me.' 

"  '  Yes, '  said  he,  but  still  with  a  something  in  his 
voice  between  wonder  and  suspicion ;  '  that's  true 
enough.  I  have  always  retained  the  highest  respect 
for  Captain  Branscome,  and  by  your  voice  you  are 

he.    But — but '    He  hesitated,  and  fired  another 

question  pointblank  at  me :  '  You  come  from  Fal- 
mouth? ' 

"  '  1  do,  sir.' 

"  '  Alone  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  sir.  I  have  walked  all  the  way  from  Fal- 
mouth, and  without  a  companion. ' 

165 


POISOX    ISLAND 

Look  here,  my  friend, '  he  said,  after  seeming  to 
ponder  for  a  moment,  '  if  you  mean  ill,  you  must  have 
altered  strangely  from  the  Capain  Branscome  I  used 
to  know,  and  if  you  mean  well  you  have  timed  your 
visit  almost  as  strangely.'  He  paused  again.  '  Either 
you  know  what  I  mean,  or  you  do  not ;  if  you  do  not, 
you  will  have  to  forgive  a  great  deal  in  this  re- 
ception ;  and  you  will,  to  begin  with,  forgive  my  ask- 
ing you,  on  your  word  of  honor,  if  on  your  journey 
hither  you  have  overtaken  or  met  or  recognized  any 
one  hailing  from  Falmouth.  You  do  not  answer,  '  he 
added,  after  yet  another  pause. 

"  '  Why,  as  to  that,  sir, '  said  I,  '  since  leaving  Fal- 
mouth I  have  neither  met  nor  overtaken  any  one  of 
my  acquaintance.  But,  since  you  put  it  to  me  pre- 
cisely, I  will  not  swear  that  I  have  not  recognized 
one.  A  few  minutes  ago,  standing  at  the  head  of  the 
lane  here,  I  saw  a  man  cross  it,  presumably  from  this 
garden,  and  take  the  path  leading  through  the  planta- 
tion yonder.  It  certainly  strikes  me  that  I  knew  the 
man,  and  I  followed  him  down  the  lane  here  to  make 
sure.  ' 


Why? '  the  Major  asked  me. 

Because,  sir, '  said  I,  '  it  did  not  seem  possible 
to  me  that  the  man  I  mean  could  have  any  business 
here;  besides  which,  an  hour  or  two  before  leaving 
Falmouth  I  had  passed  him  in  the  street,  and  though 

166 


CAPTAIN  bka:^scome's  confession 

lie  had,  indeed,  the  use  of  his  legs,  he  was  too  far 
gone  in  liquor  to  recognize  me.' 

"  '  His  name  ? '  the  Major  asked. 

"  '  Coffin,  sir,'  said  I ;  '  usually  known  as  Captain 
Coffin,  or  Captain  Danny.' 

"  '  A  drunkard  ? '  he  asked. 

"  '  A  man  given  to  liquor,'  said  I,  ^  by  fits  and 
starts;  but  mild  enough  in  any  ordinary  way.  You 
might  call  him  the  least  bit  touched  in  the  upper 
story;  of  a  loose,  rambling  head,  at  all  events,  as  I 
can  testify,  who  have  taught  him  navigation — or 
-tried  to.' 

"  The  Major,  though  he  could  not  see  me,  seemed 
to  study  me  with  his  blind  eyes.  He  stood  erect, 
with  the  bundle  clipped  under  his  left  arm ;  and  the 
bundle  I  made  out  to  be  a  flag,  rolled  up  and  strapped 
about  with  its  own  lanyard. 

"  '  One  more  question.  Captain  Branscome,'  said 
he.  '  This  Captain  Coffin,  as  you  call  him — is  he,  to 
the  best  of  your  knowledge,  an  honest  man  ? ' 

"  I  answered  that  I  had  heard  question  of  Coffin's 
sanity,  but  never  of  his  honesty. 

"  '  His  sanity,  eh  ? '  said  the  Major ;  and  I  could 
see  he  was  hung  in  stays,  but  he  picked  up  his  wind 
after  a  second  or  two,  and  paid  off  on  another  tack. 
*  Well,  well, '  he  said,  '  we'll  drop  talking  of  this  Cof- 
fin, and  turn  to  the  business  that  brings  you  here. 

167 


POISOX    ISLAND 

What  is  it  ?  For  I  take  it  you've  walked  all  the  way 
from  Falmouth  for  something  more  than  the  sake  of 
a  chat  over  old  times.' 

"  I  remember,  ladies,  the  words  he  used,  though 
not  the  tone  of  them.  To  tell  the  truth,  though  my 
ears  received  'em,  I  was  not  listening.  I  stood  there, 
wishing  myself  a  hundred  miles  away ;  but  his  man- 
ner gave  me  no  chance  to  fob  him  off  with  an  excuse, 
or  pretend  I  had  dropped  in  for  a  passing  call.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  out  with  my  story,  and  into 
it  I  plunged  somehow,  my  tongue  stammering  with 
shame.  He  listened,  to  be  sure,  but  without  offering 
to  help  me  over  the  hard  places.  Indeed,  at  the  first 
mention  of  my  poverty,  I  saw  all  his  first  suspicions 
— whatever  they  had  been — return  and  show  them- 
selves in  his  blind  eyes.  His  mouth  was  set  like  a 
closed  trap.  Yet  he  heard  me  out,  and,  when  I  had 
done,  his  suspicions  semed  to  have  faded  again,  for 
he  answered  me  considerately  enough,  though  not 
cordially. 

"  '  Captain  Branscome,'  he  said,  'I  may  tell  you 
at  once  that  I  never  lend  money ;  and  my  reason  is 
partly  that  good  seldom  comes  of  it,  and  partly  that 
I  am  a  poor  man — if  you  can  call  a  man  poor  who  is 
by  a  few  pounds  richer  than  his  needs.  But  I  have  a 
great  respect  for  you  ' — the  ladies  will  forgive  me  for 
repeating  his  exact  words — ^  and  your  voice  seems  to 

168 


CAPTAIX   BKAIvTSCOME'S   CONFESSION 

tell  me  that  you  still  deserve  it;  that  you  have  suf- 
fered more  than  you  say  before  being  driven  to  make 
this  appeal.  I  can  do  something — though  it  be  little 
— to  help  an  old  comrade.  Will  you  oblige  me  by 
stepping  into  the  summer-house,  here,  and  taking  a 
seat  while  I  go  to  the  house?  I  will  not  keep  you 
waiting  more  than  a  few  minutes.' 

"  He  picked  up  his  walking-stick,  which  rested 
against  a  chair,  just  within  the  doorway,  and  stood 
for  a  moment  while  I  stepped  past  him  and  entered 
the  summer-house;  and  so,  with  a  nod  of  the  head, 
turned  and  walked  towards  the  house,  using  his  stick 
very  skillfully  to  feel  his  path  between  the  bushes, 
and  still  keeping  the  flag  tucked  under  his  left 
arm. 

"  So  I  sat  and  waited,  ladies,  on  no  good  terms 
with  myself.  The  way  of  the  borrower  was  hard,  I 
found  —  hard  even  beyond  expectation  —  and  the 
harder  because  the  Major's  manner  had  not  been  un- 
kindly, but  —  if  you'll  understand  my  meaning  — 
only  just  kind  enough.  In  short,  I  don't  know  but 
that  I  must  have  cut  and  run  rather  than  endure  his 
charity ;  had  not  my  thoughts  been  distracted  by  this 
mystery  over  Captain  Coffin.  For  the  Major  had 
said  too  much,  and  not  enough.  The  man  I  had 
seen  crossing  the  lane  was  certainly  Coffin,  but  to  con- 
nect him  with  Minden  Cottage  I  had  no  clew  at  all 

169 


POISON    ISLAND 

beyond  the  faint  one,  Harry,  that  you  and  he  were 
acquaintances.  Besides,  I  had  seen  him,  the  morn- 
ing before,  in  the  crowd  aroimd  the  prisoners,  and 
could  have  sworn  he  was  then — saving  your  presence, 
ladies — as  drunk  as  a  fiddler.  If  vehicle  had  brought 
him,  it  could  not  be  any  that  had  passed  me  on  the 
road,  or  for  certain  I  should  have  recognized  him. 
Well,  here  was  a  riddle,  and  I  had  come  no  nearer  to 
guessing  it  when  the  Major  returned. 

"  He  had  left  his  bundle  in  the  house,  and  in  place 
of  it  he  carried  a  cashbox,  which  he  set  on  the  table 
between  us,  but  did  not  at  once  open.  Instead,  he 
turned  to  me  with  a  complete  change  of  manner,  and 
held  out  his  hand  very  frankly. 

"  '  I  owe  you  an  apology.  Captain,'  said  he.  '  To 
be  plain  with  you,  at  the  moment  you  appeared,  I 
was  half  expecting  a  different  kind  of  visitor,  and  I 
fear  you  received  some  of  the  welcome  prepared  for 
him.  Overlook  it,  please,  and  shake  hands;  and,  to 
get  our  business  over  ' — he  unlocked  the  cashbox — 
'  here  are  ten  guineas,  which  I  will  ask  you  to  accept 
from  me.  We  won't  call  it  a  gift ;  we  will  call  it  an 
acknowledgment  for  the  extra  pains  you  have  put 
into  teaching  my  son.  Tut,  man !  '  said  he,  as  I  pro- 
tested, '  Harry  has  told  us  all  about  that.  I  assure 
you  the  youngster  came  near  to  wearying  us,  last  holi- . 
day,  with  praise  of  you.'  " 

170 


CAPTAIX   BRAXSCOME'S   CO]SrFESSIO:NT 

"  And  so  he  did,"  Plinny  here  interrupted.  "  That 
is  to  say,  sir — of  course,  if  you  will  understand — we 
were  only  too  glad  to  listen  to  him." 

"  I  thank  you,  ma'am."  Captain  Branseome  bowed 
to  her  gravely.  "  I  will  not  deny  that  the  Major's 
words  gave  me  pleasure  for  the  moment.  He,  for  his 
part,  appeared  to  be  quite  another  man.  'Twas  as 
if  betw^een  leaving  me  and  returning  to  the  summer- 
house  a  load  had  been  lifted  from  his  mind.  He 
counted  out  the  guineas,  locked  the  cashbox  again,  lit 
his  pipe,  and  then,  seeming  to  recollect  himself, 
reached  down  a  clean  one  from  a  stack  above  the  door- 
way, and  insisted  upon  my  filling  and  smoking  with 
him.  'Twas  a  long  while  since  I  had  tasted  the 
luxury  of  tobacco.  We  talked  of  old  days  on  the 
'  Londonderry,'  of  Sir  John  Moore's  last  campaign, 
of  Falmouth  and  the  packets,  of  the  peace  and  the 
overthrow  of  Bonaparte's  ambitions;  or  rather,  'twas 
he  that  talked  and  questioned,  while  for  me  'twas 
pleasure  enough,  and  a  pleasure  long  denied  me,  to 
sit  on  terms  with  a  well-bred  gentleman  and  listen 
to  talk  of  a  quality  which " 

"  Which  differed  from  that  of  the  Rev.  Philip 
Stimcoe's,"  suggested  Miss  Belcher,  as  he  hesitated. 
"  Proceed,  sir.  " 

"  I  shall  add,  madam,  that  the  Major  very  kindly 
invited  me  to  sleep  that  night  under  his  roof.    I  could 

171 


POISOX    ISLAND 

pick  up  the  coach  in  the  morning  (he  said).  But  this 
I  declined,  professing  that  I  preferred  the  night  for 
travelling,  and  maybe,  before  tiring  myself,  would 
overtake  one  of  Russell's  wagons  and  obtain  a  lift — 
the  fact  being  that,  grateful  though  I  found  it  to  sit 
and  converse  with  him,  my  conscience  was  accusing 
me  all  the  while. 

"  Towards  the  end  of  our  talk  he  had  let  slip  by 
accident  that  he  was  by  no  means  a  rich  man.  The 
money  from  that  moment  began  to  burn  in  my 
pockets,  and  I  had  scarcely  shaken  hands  with  him 
and  taken  my  leave — which  I  did  just  as  the  sun 
was  sinking  behind  the  plantation  across  the  lane — 
before  his  guineas  fairly  scorched  me.  I  held  on  my 
way  for  a  mile  or  more.  You  may  have  observed, 
ladies,  that  I  limp  in  my  walk  ?  It  is  the  effect  of  an 
old  wound.  But,  I  declare  to  you,  my  limp  was  noth- 
ing to  the  thought  I  dragged  with  me — the  recollec- 
tion of  the  Major's  face  and  the  expression  that  had 
come  over  it  when  I  had  first  confessed  my  errand. 
All  his  subsequent  kindness,  his  sympathy,  his  hos- 
pitality, his  frank  and  easy  talk,  could  not  wipe  out 
that  recollection.  I  had  sold  something  which  for 
years  it  had  been  my  pride  to  keep.  I  had  forced  it 
on  an  unwilling  buyer.  I  had  taken  the  money  of 
a  poor  man,  and  had  given  him  in  exchange — what  ? 
You  remember,  ladies,  those  words  of  Shakespeare — 

172 


CAPTAIN   BRANSCOME'S   COXFESSIOX 

good  words,  although  he  puts  them  into  the  mouth  of 
a  villain — that 

'" .  .  .  He  who  filches  from  me  my  good  name 
Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him 
And  makes  me  poor  indeed.' 

"  No  one  had  filched  my  honor — I  had  sold  it  to 
a  good  man,  but  yet  without  enriching  him,  while  in 
the  loss  of  it  I  knew  myself  poor  indeed.  At  the  sec- 
ond milestone  I  turned  back,  more  eager  now  to  find 
the  Major  again  and  get  rid  of  the  money  than  ever 
I  had  been  to  obtain  it. 

"  My  face  was  no  sooner  turned  again  towards  the 
cottage  than  I  broke  into  a  run,  and  so  good  pace  I 
made  between  running  and  walking  that  it  cannot 
have  been  more  than  an  hour  from  my  leaving  the 
garden  before  I  arrived  back  at  the  head  of  the  lane. 
The  evening  was  dusking  in,  but  by  no  means  dark 
as  yet,  even  though  a  dark  cloud  had  crept  up  from 
the  west  and  overhimg  the  plantation  to  the  right.  I 
looked  down  the  lane  as  I  entered  it,  and  again — 
yes,  ladies,  as  surely  as  before — I  saw  a  man  cross  it 
from  the  garden  gate  and  step  into  the  plantation ! 

"  Who  the  man  was  I  could  not  tell,  the  light  being 
so  uncertain.  Although  he  crossed  the  lane  just 
where  Coffin  had  crossed  it  and  disappeared  in  just 
the  same  manner,  I  had  an  impression  that  he  was 

173 


POISOX    ISLAND 

not  Coffin,  and  that  his  gait,  for  one  thing,  differed 
from  Coffin's.  But  I  tell  you  this  for  what  it  is 
worth  :  T  was  startled,  you  may  be  sure,  and  hurried 
down  the  lane  after  him  even  quicker  than  I  had  hur- 
ried after  the  first  man ;  but  when  I  came  to  the  stile, 
he,  like  the  first  man,  had  vanished,  and  within  the 
plantation  it  was  impossible  by  this  time  to  see  more 
than  twenty  yards  deep. 

"  Again  I  turned  and  crossed  the  lane  to  the  gar- 
den gate.  A  sort  of  twilight  lay  over  the  turf  be- 
tween me  and  the  summer-house,  and  beneath  the 
apple-trees  skirting  my  path  to  it  on  the  left  you 
might  say  that  it  was  night ;  but  the  water  at  the  foot 
of  the  garden  threw  up  a  sort  of  glimmer,  and  there 
was  a  glimmer,  too,  on  the  vane  above  the  flagstaff.  I 
noted  this  and  that,  though  my  eyes  were  searching 
for  Major  Brooks  in  the  dark  shadow  under  the  pent 
of  the  summer-house. 

"  Towards  this  I  stepped ;  but  in  the  dark  I  must 
have  walked  a  few  feet  wide  of  the  straight  line.  I 
remember  brushing  against  a  low-growing  branch  of 
one  of  the  apple-trees,  and  this  must  have  caught  in 
my  eyeglass-ribbon  and  torn  it,  for  when  I  came  to 
fumble  for  them  a  few  seconds  later  to  help  my  sight, 
the  glasses  were  gone. 

"  By  this  time  I  had  reached  the  summer-house 
and  come  to  a  halt,  three  paces,  maybe,  from  the  door- 

174 


CAPTAIX   BRAXSCOME'S   COXFESSION 

step.  '  Major  Brooks !  '  I  called  softly,  and  then 
again,  but  a  thought  louder,  '  Major  Brooks !  ' 

"  There  was  no  answer,  ladies,  and  I  turned  my- 
self half  about,  uncertain  whether  to  go  back  up  the 
lane  and  knock  at  the  front  door  or  to  seek  my  way  to 
the  house  through  the  garden.  Just  then  my  boot 
touched  something  soft,  and  I  bent  and  saw  the  Ma- 
jor's body  stretched  across  the  step  close  beside  my 
ankles.  I  stooped  lower  and  put  down  a  hand.  It 
touched  his  shoulder,  and  then  the  gi'ound  be- 
neath the  shoulder,  and  the  ground  was  moist.  I 
drew  my  hand  back  with  a  shiver,  and  just  at  that 
moment,  as  I  stared  at  my  fingers,  the  heavy  cloud 
beyond  the  plantation  lifted  itself  clear  of  the  trees 
and  let  the  last  of  the  daylight  through — enough  to 
show  me  a  dark  stain  running  from  my  finger-tips 
and  trickling  towards  the  palm. 

"  And  then,  ladies — at  first  I  thought  of  no  danger 
to  myself,  but  ran  for  the  gate,  still  groping  as  I 
went,  for  my  eyeglasses ;  stumbled  across  the  lane 
somehow,  and  over  the  stile  in  vain  chase  of  the  man 
I  had  glimpsed  two  minutes  before.  I  say  a  vain 
chase,  for  I  had  not  plunged  twenty  yards  into  the 
plantation  before — short-sighted  mole  that  I  am — I 
had  lost  the  track.  I  pulled  up,  on  the  point  of  shout- 
ing for  help,  and  with  that  there  flashed  on  me  the 
thought  of  the  Major's  guineas  in  my  pocket.     If  I 

175 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

called  for  help  I  called  down  suspicion  on  myself, 
and  suspicion  enough  to  damn  me.  How  could  I  ex- 
plain mv  presence  in  the  garden  ?  the  blood  on  my 
hands  ?  How  could  I  account  for  the  money — 
straight  from  the  Major's  cashbox  ?  " 

Captain  Branscome  paused  and  gazed  around  upon 
us  as  if  caught  once  more  in  that  terrible  moment  of 
choice.     Miss  Belcher  met  his  gaze  and  nodded. 

"  So  the  upshot  was  that  you  ran  for  it  ?  Well,  I 
can't  say  that  I  blame  you.  But,  as  it  happens,  if 
you  had  stood  still  the  cashbox  might  have  helped  to 
clear  you ;  for  it  was  found  next  morning,  half  a  mile 
away  in  the  brook,  below  my  lodge-gate." 

"  And  there's  one  thing,"  said  Plinny,  "  we  may 
thank  God  for,  if  it  is  possible  to  be  thankful  for 
anything  in  this  dreadful  business.  The  murderer, 
whoever  he  was,  got  little  profit  from  his  crime,  for 
I  know  pretty  well  the  state  of  your  poor  father's 
finances,  Harry;  and  if,  as  Captain  Branscome  tells 
us,  he  had  taken  ten  guineas  from  the  box,  there  must 
have  been  very  few  left  in  it." 

"  My  good  soul,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  "  the  man 
wasn't  after  money !  He  wanted  the  map  this  Cap- 
tain Coffin  had  left  in  the  Major's  keeping.  That's 
as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  good,  dear  face.  If  the 
map  happened  to  be  in  the  cashbox ;  and  I'll  bet  ten 

to  one  it  wasn't " 

176 


CAPTAIX   BRAXSCOME'S   COXFESSIOX 

"  You  may  bet  ten  thousand  to  one  !"  I  cried.  "It 
was  never  in  the  cashbox  at  all.  It  was  wrapped  up 
in  the  flag  mj  father  carried  into  the  house." 

"  Bless  the  boy,"  said  Miss  Belcher ;  "  he's  not 
half  a  fool,  after  all !    Yes,  yes — where  is  the  flag  ?  " 

"  On  the  flagstaff,"  said  I.  "  I  hoisted  it  there 
this  morning." 

"Eh?" 

"  And  here,"  I  panted,  jumping  up  in  my  excite- 
ment," "  here  is  Captain  Coffin's  map  !  " 

I  heard  Miss  Belcher  breathing  hard  as  I  lugged 
out  the  oilskin  packet,  tore  open  the  knotted  string 
which  bound  it,  and,  drawing  forth  the  parchment, 
spread  it,  with  shaking  fingers,  on  the  table. 


177 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE    CIIAET    OF    MORTALLONE 

While  the  others  drew  their  chairs  closer,  and 
while  I  spread  flat  the  parchment — which  was 
crinkled  (by  the  action  of  salt  water,  maybe) — I  had 
time  to  assure  myself  that  this  was  the  selfsame  chart 
of  which  Captain  Coffin  had  once  vouchsafed  me  a 
glimpse.  I  remembered  the  shape  of  the  island,  the 
point  marked  "  Cape  Alderman,"  the  strange,  whisk- 
ered heraldical  monster  depicted  in  the  act  of  rising 
from  the  waves  off  the  northwestern  coast,  the 
equally  impossible  ship,  decorated  with  a  sprit-top- 
mast and  a  flag  upon  it,  and  charging  up  under  full 
sail  for  the  southern  entry,  the  name  of  which 
("  Gow's  Gulf  ")  I  must  have  missed  to  read  in  the 
short  perusal  Captain  Coffin  had  allowed  me.  At 
any  rate,  I  could  not  recall  it.  But  I  recalled  the 
three  crosses  which  showed  (so  he  had  told  me) 
w^here  the  treasure  lay.  They  were  marked  in  red 
ink,  and  I  explained  their  meaning  to  Miss  Belcher, 
who  had  pounced  upon  them  at  once. 

"  Fiddlestick-end !  "  said  that  lady,  falling  back 

178 


THE    CHART    OF    MORTALLOXE 

on  her  favorite  ejaculation,  "  Great  clumsy  crosses 
of  that  size !  How  in  the  world  could  any  one  find  a 
treasure  by  such  marks,  unless  it  happened  to  be 
two  miles  long  ?  " 

She  pointed  to  the  scale  at  the  head  of  the  chart, 
which,  to  be  sure,  gave  six  miles  to  the  inch.  By  the 
same  measurement  the  crosses  covered,  each  way, 
from  half  a  mile  to  three-quarters.  Moreover,  each 
had  patently  been  dashed  in  with  two  hurried  strokes 
of  the  pen  and  without  any  pretence  of  accuracy.  The 
first  cross  covered  a  "  key  "  or  sandbank  off  the  north- 
ern shore  of  the  island ;  the  second  sprawled  athwart 
what  appeared  to  be  the  second  height  in  a  range  of 
hills  running  southward  from  Cape  Alderman,  and 
down  along  the  entire  eastern  coast  at  a  mean  dis- 
tance of  a  mile,  or  a  little  over,  from  the  sea ;  while 
the  third  was  planted  full  across  a  grove  of  trees  at 
the  head  of  the  great  inlet — Gow's  Gulf — to  the 
south,  and,  moreover,  spanned  the  chief  river  of  the 
island,  which,  running  almost  due  south  from  the 
back  of  the  hills  or  mountains  (their  size  was  not 
indicated)  below  Cape  Alderman,  discharged  itself 
into  the  apex  of  the  gulf. 

"  Without  bearings  of  some  sort,"  said  Miss 
Belcher,  "  these  marks  are  merely  ridiculous." 

"  You  may  well  say  so,  ma'am,"  Captain  Brans- 
come  answered,  but  inattentively.      "  Mortallone — 

179 


POISOX    ISLAND 

Mortallone,"  he  went  on,  muttering  the  word  over 
as  if  to  himself.    "  It  is  curious,  all  the  same." 

"  What  is  curious  ?  "  demanded  Miss  Belcher. 

"  Why,  ma'am,  I  have  never  myself  visited  the 
Gulf  of  Honduras,  but  among  seamen  there  are  al- 
ways a  hundred  stories  floating  about.  In  a  manner 
of  speaking,  there  is  no  such  shop  for  gossip  as  the 
sea.  In  every  port  you  meet  'em,  in  taverns  where 
sailors  meet,  drink,  and  brag — the  liquor  being  in 
them — and  one  man  talks  and  the  rest  listen,  not 
troubling  themselves  to  believe.  It  is  good  to  find 
oneself  ashore,  you  understand  ?  And  a  good,  strong- 
flavored  yarn  makes  the  landlord  and  all  the  shore- 
keeping  folk  open  their  eyes " 

"  Bless  the  man !  "  Miss  Belcher  rapped  her 
knuckles  on  the  table.  "  This  is  not  a  'long-shore 
tavern." 

"  Xo,  ma'am." 

"  Then  why  not  come  to  the  point  ?  " 

"  The  point,  ma'am — well,  the  point  is  that  every 
one — that  is  to  say,  every  seaman — has  heard  tell  of 
treasure  knocking  about,  as  you  might  put  it,  some- 
where in  the  Gulf  of  Honduras." 

"  What  sort  of  treasure  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  ma'am,  it  varies  with  the  story. 
Sometimes  'tis  bar  silver  from  the  isthmus,  and  some- 
times 'tis  gold  plate  and  bullion  that  belonged  to  the 

180 


THE    CHART    OF    MORTALLONE 

old  kings  of  Mexico ;  but  by  the  tale  I've  heard  of ten- 
est,  'tis  church  treasure  that  was  run  away  with  by  a 
shipful  of  logwoodmen  in  Campeaehy  Bay.  But  there 
again  you  no  sooner  fix  it  as  church  treasure  and  ask 
where  it  came  from  than  you  have  to  choose  between 
half  a  dozen  different  accounts.  Some  say  from  the 
Spanish  islands — Havana  for  choice ;  others  from 
the  Main,  and  I've  heard  places  mentioned  as  far 
apart  as  Vera  Cruz  and  Caracas.  The  dates,  too — if 
you  can  call  them  dates  at  all — -vary  just  as  surpris- 
ingly." 

"  The  date  on  this  chart  is  1776,"  said  Miss 
Belcher,  who  had  been  peering  at  it  while  the  Cap- 
tain spoke. 

"  Then,  supposing  there's  something  in  poor  Cof- 
fin's secret,  that  gives  you  the  year  to  start  from. 
We'll  suppose  this  is  the  very  chart  used  by  the  man 
who  hid  the  treasure.  Then  it  follows  the  treasure 
wasn't  hidden  before  1776,  and  that  rules  out  all  the 
yarns  about  Hornigold,  Teach,  Bat  Roberts,  and 
suchlike  pirates,  the  last  of  whom  must  have  been 
hanged  a  good  fifty  years  before ;  though  here's  evi- 
dence"— Captain  Branscome  laid  a  forefinger  on  the 
chart — "  that  these  gentry  had  dealings  with  the 
island  in  their  day.  '  Gow's  Gulf,'  '  Cape  Fea ' — 
Gow  was  a  pirate  and  a  hard  nut  at  that ;  and  Fea, 
if  I  remember,  his  lieutenant  or  something  of  the 

181 


POISOX    ISLAND 

sort;  but  they  had  gone  their  ways  before  ever  this 
Avas  printed,  and  consequently  before  ever  these 
crosses  came  to  be  written  on  it.  Yon  follow  me, 
ma'am  ?  " 

Miss  Belcher  gave  a  contemptuous  sniff  which,  I 
doubt  not,  would  have  prefaced  the  remark  that  an 
unweaned  child  would  arrive  unaided  at  the  same 
conclusions ;  but  here  I  interposed. 

"  Captain  Coffin,"  said  I,  "  told  me  that  a  part  of 
the  treasure  was  church  plate,  and  that  he  had  seen 
it.  lie  showed  me  a  coin,  too,  and  said  it  came  from 
the  island." 

"  Hey,  lad  ?    What  sort  of  coin  ?  " 

But  to  this  I  could  give  no  answer,  except  that  it 
was  a  piece  of  gold,  and  in  size  perhaps  a  trifle 
smaller  than  a  guinea. 

"  That's  a  pity,  lad.  The  coin  might  have  helped 
us.  You're  sure  now  that  you  can't  remember  ?  It 
hadn't  a  couple  of  pillars  engi'aved  on  it,  for  in- 
stance ?  " 

I  shook  my  head.  I  had  taken  no  particular  heed 
of  the  stamp  on  the  coin. 

Captain  Branscome  sighed  his  disappointment. 

"  The  church  plate  don't  help  us  at  all,"  he  said, 
"  or  very  little.  Why,  I've  heard  this  Honduras 
treasure  dated  so  far  back  as  Morgan's  time,  when  he 
sacked  Panama.     The  tale  went  that  the  priests  at 

182 


THE    CHART    OF    MORTALLONE 

Panama  or  Chagres,  or  one  of  those  places,  on  fright 
of  Morgan's  coming,  clapped  all  their  treasure  aboard 
ship  under  a  guard  of  militia — soldiers  of  some  sort, 
anyway — and  that  the  seamen  cut  the  soldiers' 
throats,  slipped  cable,  and  away-to-go.  But  Morgan ! 
He  must  have  died  before  Queen  Anne  was  born — 
well,  not  so  far  back  as  that  maybe,  but  then  or  then- 
abouts.  I  tell  you,  ma'am,  this  story  hangs  around 
every  port  and  every  room  where  seamen  gather  and 
drink  and  take  their  ways  again.  'Tis  for  all  the 
world  like  the  smell  of  tobacco-smoke,  that  tells 
you  some  one  has  come  and  gone,  but  leaves  you  noth- 
ing to  get  hold  of.    Hallo " 

As  the  exclamation  escaped  him.  Captain  Brans- 
come,  who  had  casually  picked  up  a  corner  of  the 
parchment  between  finger  and  thumb,  with  a  nervous 
jerk  drew  the  whole  chart  from  under  my  outspread 
palms  and  turned  it  over  face-downwards. 

"Eh?     But  see  here!" 

He  fumbled  with  his  glasses,  while  Miss  Belcher 
and  I,  snatching  at  the  chart,  almost  knocked  our 
heads  together  as  we  bent  over  a  corner  of  it — the 
left-hand  upper  corner — and  a  dozen  lines  of  writing 
scrawled  there  in  faded  ink.     They  ran  thus: 

1.  Landed  by  cuttar  when  wee  saw  a  sail.  Lesser  Kay  N. 
of  Gable.  Get  open  water  between  two  kays  S.W.  and  W. 
by  S.,  and  N.  inner  point  of  Gable  (where  is  green  patch,  good 

183 


POISON    ISLAND 

watering)  in   line  with  white  rock  (birds),  neer  as  posW«  S. 
a  point  E.  3  feet  bare,  being  hurried. 

2.  Bayse  of  cliff  second  hill  S.  S.W.  from  Cape  Alderman. 
Here  is  bank  over  2  waterfals.  Neer  lower  fall,  12  paces  back 
from  egge,  getting  island  open,  N.E.  beyond  rock  W.  of  inlet 
and  first  tree  Misery  Swamp  over  Crabtree,  W.  S.W.  Bush 
above  rock  to  rt  of  fall.  Shaddow  J  to  4,  June  21st,  when 
we  left  digging. 

3.  R.  bank  river,  IJ  mile  up  from  Gow  crikke.     Centre 
tree  in  clump  5  branch  bearing  N.  and  by  E.  ^  point,  two  forks. 
R.  for  4  ft.  red  cave  under  hill  457yfJs.  foot  of  tree  N.N.W. 

N.B. — The  stones  here,  under  rock  4  spans  L  side. 

That  was  all,  except  two  short  entries — the  first 
scribbled  aslant  under  No.  1,  and  in  Captain  Coffin's 
own  handwriting — so  Captain  Branscome,  who  knew 
it,  assured  us. 

N.  B. — Took  out  5  cases  Ap.  5,  1S06,  besides  the  boddies. 
Avg'fs  |cwt.  1  case  jewels.  We  left  the  clothes,  wh.  were 
many. 

The  second  entry  appeared  to  have  been  penned 
by  the  same  hand  as  the  original,  but  more  neatly 
and  some  while  later.  The  ink,  at  any  rate,  was 
blacker — fresher.     It  ran: 

S.W.  ann.  ffitat.  37.     R.I.P. 

The  handwriting,  though  rugged — and  the  indif- 
ferent ink  mav  have  been  to  blame  for  this — was  well 
formed,  and,  but  for  the  spelling,  might  have  be- 
longed to  an  educated  man. 

184 


THE    CHART    OF    MORTALLOJiE 

The  reader,  if  he  choose,  may  follow  our  example 
and  discuss  the  above  directions  for  half  an  hour — 
I  will  warrant  with  as  little  result.  Miss  Belcher 
ended  by  harking  back  to  the  summer-house  and  to 
the  last  crime — if  we  might  guess,  the  last  of  many — 
for  which  this  document  had  been  responsible. 

"  What  puzzles  me  is  this :  Since  the  Major  had 
pockets  in  his  coat,  why  should  he  have  hidden  the 
parcel  as  he  did  ?    So  small  a  parcel  too !  " 

"  Captain  Coffin,"  I  suggested,  "  may  have  known 
that  he  was  being  followed." 

"Well?" 

"  And  in  handing  it  over  he  may  have  warned  my 
father  that  there  was  danger." 

"  I  believe  Harry  is  right,"  said  Captain  Brans- 
come.  "  Now  I  recall  the  Major's  face  at  the  moment 
when  I  rattled  the  latch,  I  feel  sure  he  was  on  his 
guard.  Yes — yes,  he  had  been  warned  against  carry- 
ing this  on  his  person — he  was  wrapping  it  away  for 
the  time " 

"  Why,  what  ails  the  man  ? "  demanded  Miss 
Belcher,  as  Captain  Branscome  stopped  short  with 
a  groan. 

"  I  was  thinking,  ma'am,  that  but  for  my  visit  he 
might  never  have  relaxed  his  guard — that  it  was  I 
who  helped  the  murderer  to  take  him  at  unawares. 
ISTay — worse,  ma'am,  worse — his  last  thought  may 

185 


POISOX    ISLAND 

have  been  that  I  was  the  traitor — that  the  blow  he 
took  was  from  the  hand  he  had  filled  with  gold — that 
I  had  returned  to  kill  him  in  his  blindness  !  " 

Captain  Branscome  bowed  his  head  upon  his 
hands.  I  saw  Plinnj — who  all  this  while  had  sat 
silent,  content  to  listen — rise,  her  face  twitcliing,  and 
put  out  a  hand  to  touch  the  Captain's  shoulder.  I  saw 
her  hand  hesitate  as  her  sense  of  decorum  overtook 
her  pity  and  seemed  to  reason  wnth  it.  And  with 
that  I  heard  the  noise  of  wdieels  on  the  road. 

"  Hallo !  "  Miss  Belcher  pricked  up  her  ears. 
^'  Here's  that  nuisance  Jack  Eogers  turning  up 
again !  " 


186 


.     CHAPTER    XVIII 

THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    CORNER    CUPBOARD 

Mr.  Jack  Rogers,  as  lie  pulled  up  by  the  porcH 
and  directed  me  who  had  rim  forth  to  meet  him,  to 
stand  by  the  young  mare's  head,  wore  a  look  of  ex- 
treme self-satisfaction.  Beside  him,  also  beaming, 
sat  Mr.  Goodfellow,  with  the  corner-cupboard  nursed 
between  his  knees. 

"Capital  news,  lad!"  announced  Mr.  Rogers, 
climbing  down  from  the  tilbury.  "  The  filly's  pretty 
near  dead-beat,  though — must  see  to  her  and  cool 
her  down  before  telling  it.  ]^ow,  then,  Mr.  Good- 
fellow,  if  you'll  hand  out  the  cupboard.  By  the  way, 
sonny,  I  hope  Miss  Plinlimmon  can  give  us  break- 
fast. I'm  as  hungry  as  a  hunter,  for  my  part,  and 
deserve  it,  too,  after  a  good  night's  work.  "With  my 
fol-de-rol,  diddledy — "  He  started  to  hum,  but 
checked  himself  shamefacedly.  "  There  I  go  again, 
and  I  beg  your  pardon!  'Tis  the  most  difficult  thing 
in  the  world  to  me  to  behave  myself  in  a  house  of 
mourning." 

Mr.  Goodfellow  by  this  time  had  clambered  down, 

187 


POISOX    ISLAND 

and  was  embracing  the  corner-cnpboard  as  thongli  he 
had  parted  from  it  for  an  age,  instead  of  for  fifty 
seconds  at  the  farthest. 

"  Carry  it  indoors,  but  don't  open  it  till  I'm 
ready,"  commanded  Mr.  Rogers,  stooping  under  the 
filly  to  loosen  her  belly-band.  "  I'm  a  magistrate,  re- 
member, and  these  things  must  be  done  in  order. 
You  come  along  with  me,  Harry — that  is,  if  you 
have  the  key  in  your  pocket." 

"  I  have,  sir." 

"  Right !  Then  come  along  with  me,  and  you'll 
be  out  of  harm's  way." 

So,  while  Mr.  Goodfellow  carried  the  cupboard 
into  the  house,  Mr.  Rogers  and  I  attended  to  the 
filly. 

This  took,  maybe,  twenty  minutes;  but  Mr.  Rog- 
ers was  a  sportsman,  and  thought  of  his  horse  before 
himself.  Not  till  all  was  done,  and  well  done,  did 
he  announce  again  that  he  was  devilishly  peckish; 
nor  did  I  guess  how  devilishly  peckish  he  was  until, 
returning  to  the  breakfast-room  where  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  sat  devouring  bread  and  cream,  he  helped 
himself  to  a  plateful  of  veal  pie,  fit  for  a  giant,  and 
before  attacking  it  drained  a  tankard  of  cider  at  a 
single  pull,  while  he  nodded  over  the  rim  to  Captain 
Branscome,  to  whom  Plinny  introduced  him. 

"  Jack,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  with  a  jerk  of  her 

188 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  CORNER  CUPBOARD 

thumb  towards  the  Captain,  "  I'll  lay  you  two  to  one 
in  guineas,  that  our  news  is  more  important  than 
yours!  " 

"  I  take  you,"  said  Mr,  Rogers. 

"  It  will  save  time  if  we  tell  it  while  you're  eat- 
ing, and  will  save  you  the  trouble  of  talking  with 
your  mouth  full." 

Once  or  twice,  while  she  abridged  Captain  Brans- 
come's  narrative,  Mr.  Rogers  set  down  knife  and 
fork,  and  stared  at  her  with  round  eyes,  his  jaws 
slowly  chewing.  .,^ 

"  And  I  reckon,"  concluded  Miss  Belcher,  "  that 
you  won't  dispute  your  owing  me  a  guinea." 

"  Wait  a  bit !  "  Mr.  Rogers,  pushed  his  empty 
plate  away,  selected  a  clean  one,  and  helped  himself 
to  six  slices  of  ham.  "  To  begin  with,  I've  found 
scent  and"  laid  on  the  hounds." 

"Where?" 

"  At  St.  Mawes.  Coffin  landed  there  from  the 
ferry  on  the  night  of  the  11th,  at  a  few  minutes 
before  nine,  and  walked  straight  to  the  Lugger  Inn, 
above  the  quay.  There  he  borrowed  fifteen  shillings 
off  the*  landlord,  who  knew  him  well;  ordered  two 
glasses  of  hot  gin-and-water,  drank  them,  paid  down 
sixpence,  and  took  the  road  that  leads  east  through 
Gerrans  village.  His  tale  was  that  he  had  a  relative 
to  visit  at  Plymouth  Dock,  and  meant  to  push  on 

189 


POISON    ISLAND 

that  night  so  far  as  Probiis,  and  there  sleep  and  wait 
for  Russell's  wagon." 

"  But  his  road/'  I  objected,  "  wouldn't  lie  through 
Gerrans  village,  unless  he  went  by  the  short  cut 
through  the  field  beyond  St.  Mawes,  and  took  the 
ferry  at  Percuil." 

"  Right,  lad;  and  that  is  precisely  what  he  did,  for 
— to  push  ahead  a  bit — we  overran  his  track  on  the 
main  road,  and,  learning  of  that  same  short  cut, 
drove  back  along  tlie  other  side  of  the  creek  to  Per- 
cuil, and  had  a  talk  with  the  ferryman.  The  ferry- 
man told  us  that  at  ten  o'clock,  or  thereabouts,  he 
was  going  to  bed,  having  closed  the  ferry,  when  a 
voice  on  the  other  shore  began  bawling  '  Over! '  He 
slipped  on  his  boots  again,  rowed  across,  and  took 
over  a  man  who  was  certainly  Coffin." 

"  He  was  alone?  "  I  asked. 

"  He  came  across  the  ferry  alone,"  said  Mr. 
Rogers,  "  and  I  dare  say  he  had  no  idea  of  being  fol- 
lowed. But  back  at  St.  Mawes,  while  he  was  drink- 
ing gin-and-water  in  the  taproom,  another  man  came 
to  the  door  of  the  Lugger.  This  man  sent  for  the 
landlord — Bogue  by  name — and  asked  to  be  shown- 
into  a  private  room.  He  was  dressed  in  odds-and- 
ends  of  garments,  including  a  soiled  regimental  coat 
and  dirty  linen  trousers." 

"  The  French  prisoner!  "  said  I. 

190 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  COKNER  CUPBOARD 

"  That's  the  man.  He  told  Bogue,  fair  and 
straight,  he  was  an  ex-prisoner,  and  off  the  '  Wellin- 
boro' '  transport,  arrived  that  day  in  harbor.  He 
had  money  in  his  pocket — in  Bogne's  presence  he 
pulled  out  a  fistful  of  gold — and  he  pitched  a  tale 
that  he  was  bound  for  his  home,  a  little  this  side  of 
Saltash,  but  couldn't  face  the  road  in  the  clothes  he 
wore.  You'll  admit  that  this  was  reasonable  when 
you've  seen  'em,  for  I  brought  the  suit  along  in  the 
tail  of  the  tilbury.  For  a  pound,  Bogue  fitted  him 
up  with  an  old  suit  of  his  own — coat  and  waistcoat 
of  blue  sea-cloth,  not  much  the  worse  for  wear,  duck 
trousers,  a  tarpaulin  hat,  and  a  flannel  shirt  marked 
J.  B.  (Bogue's  Christian  name  is  Jeremiah).  The 
fellow  had  no  shirt  when  he  presented  himself,  noth- 
ing between  the  bare  buff  and  the  uniform  coat 
that  he  wore  buttoned  across  his  chest;  and  that's 
where  our  luck  comes  in.  He  was  shy  of  stripping 
in  Bogue's  presence,  and,  on  pretence  of  feeling 
chilly,  sent  him  out  of  the  room  for  a  glass  of  hot 
grog.  As  it  happened,  Bogue  met  the  waiting-maid 
in  the  passage,  coming  out  of  the  bar  with  a  tray  and 
half  a  dozen  hot  grogs  that  had  been  ordered  by 
customers  in  the  taproom.  He  picked  up  one,  and, 
sending  the  maid  back  to  fetch  another  to  fill  up 
her  order,  returned  at  once  to  the  private  room.  My 
gentleman  there  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the 

191 


POISOX    ISLAND 

door,  and  stripped  to  the  waist,  with  the  shirt  in  his 
hand,  ready  to  slip  it  on.  He  wasn't  expecting 
Bogue  so  soon,  and  he  turned  about  with  a  jump, 
but  not  before  Bogue  had  sight  of  his  back  and  a 
great  picture  tattooed  across  it — Adam  and  Eve, 
with  the  tree  between  'em,  and  the  serpent  coiled 
around  it  complete," 

"  The  man  Bogue  must  have  quick  sight,"  com- 
mented Miss  Belcher. 

"  So  I  told  him,  but  his  answer  was  that  it  didn't 
need  more  than  a  glance,  because  this  picture  is  a 
favorite  with  seamen.  Bogue  has  been  a  seaman 
himself." 

"  That  is  so,"  Captain  Branscome  corroborated. 
"  The  man  must  have  been  a  seaman,  and  at  one  time 
or  another  in  the  ISTavy.  There's  a  superstition 
about  that  particular  picture:  tattooed  across  the 
back  and  loins  it's  supposed  to  protect  them,  in  a 
moderate  degree,  against  flogging." 

"  "Well,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  "  his  belonging  to  the 
Navy  seems  likely  enough.  It  accounts,  in  one  way, 
for  his  finding  himself  in  a  French  war-prison.  Go 
on.  Jack." 

"  The  man  (said  Bogue)  faced  about  with  a  jump, 
catching  his  hands — with  the  shirt  in  'em — towards 
his  chest,  and  half  covering  it,  but  not  so  as  to  hide 
from  Bogue  that  his  chest,  too,  was  marked.    Bogue 

193 


EXTENTS  OF  THE  CORXER  CUPBOARD 

.dn't  time  to  make  out  the  design,  but  his  recollec- 
^on  is  there  were  several  small  ones — ships,  foul- 
anchors,  and  the  like  —  besides  a  large  one  that 
seemed  to  be  some  sort  of  map." 

"  You  haven't  done  so  badly,  Jack,"  Miss  Belcher 
allowed,  "  Only  I  doubt  your  scent  is  a  cold  one. 
You  sent  word  on  to  Plymouth  at  once?  " 

"  By  express  rider,  and  with  orders  to  leave  a  de- 
scription of  the  man  at  all  the  ferries.  But  there's 
more  to  come.  The  man,  that  had  seemed  at  first  in 
a  desperate  hurry,  was  no  sooner  in  Bogue's  clothes 
than  he  took  a  seat,  made  Bogue  fetch  another  glass 
of  grog  and  drink  it  with  him,  and  asked  him  a  score 
of  questions  about  the  best  road  eastward.  It  struck 
Bogue  that,  for  a  man  whose  home  was  Saltash,  he 
knew  very  little  about  his  native  county.  All  this 
while  he  appeared  to  have  forgotten  his  hurry,  and 
Bogue  was  thinking  to  make  him  an  excuse  to  go 
off  and  attend  to  other  customers,  when  of  a  sudden 
he  ups  and  shakes  hands,  says  good-night,  and 
marches  out  of  the  house.  Bogue  told  me  all  this  in 
the  very  room  where  it  happened.  It  opens  out  on 
the  passage  leading  from  the  taproom  to  the  front 
door.  I  asked  Bogue  if  he  could  remember  at  what 
time  Coffin  left  the  house,  and  by  what  door;  also, 
if  the  prisoner-fellow  heard  him  leave;  but  at  first 
he  couldn't  tell  me  anything  for  certain  except  that 

193 


POISOX    ISLAND 

Coffin  went  out  by  the  front  door — he  remembered 
hearing  him  go  tapping  down  the  passage.  The  old 
man,  it  seems,  had  a  curious  way  of  tapping  with  his 
stick." 

Here  Mr.  Rogers  looked  at  me,  and  I  nodded. 

"  Where  was  the  landlord  when  he  heard  this?  " 
asked  Miss  Belcher. 

"  That,  ray  dear  Lydia,  was  naturally  the  next 
question  I  put  to  him.  '  Why,  in  this  very  room,' 
said  he,  '  now  I  come  to  think  of  it.'  '  Well,  then,' 
said  I,  '  how  long  did  you  stay  in  this  room  after  the 
prisoner  (as  we'll  call  him)  had  taken  his  leave?' 
'  Not  a  minute,'  said  he ;  '  no,  nor  half  a  minute. 
Indeed,  I  believe  we  walked  out  into  the  passage  to- 
gether, and  then  parted,  he  going  out  to  the  door, 
and  I  up  the  passage  to  the  taproom.'  '  Was  Coffin 
in  the  taproom  when  you  reached  it? '  I  asked. 
'No,'  says  Bogue;  'to  be  sure  he  wasn't.'  'Why, 
then,  you  thickhead,'  says  I,  '  he  must  have  left  while 
you  were  talking  with  the  prisoner;  and  since  you 
heard  him  go,  the  odds  are  the  prisoner  heard  him, 
too.'    That's  the  way  to  get  at  evidence,  Lydia." 

"  My  dear  Jack,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  "  you're  an 
Argus!  " 

"  Well,  I  flatter  myself  it  was  pretty  neat,"  re- 
sumed Mr.  Rogers,  speaking  with  his  mouth  full; 
"  but,  as  it  happens,  we  don't  need  it.    For  when,  as 

194 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  CORNER  CUPBOARD 

I've  told  you,  we  drove  around  to  the  ferry  at  Per- 
euil,  and  the  ferryman  described  Coffin  and  how  he'd 
put  him  across,  the  first  question  I  asked  was :  '  Did 
you  put  any  one  else  across  that  night  ? '  He  said, 
'Yes;    and   not   twenty   minutes   later.'      'Man   or 

woman?'  I  asked.     'Man,'  said  he,  'and  a  d d 

drunk  one  ' — saving  your  presence,  ladies.  I  pricked 
up  my  ears.  'Drunk?'  I  asked.  'How  drunk?' 
'  Drunk  enough  to  near-upon-drown  himself,'  said 
the  ferryman.  'It  was  this  way,  sir:  I'd  scarcely 
finished  mooring  the  boat  again,  and  was  turning  to 
go  indoors,  when  I  heard  a  splash,  t'other  side  of 
the  creek,  where  the  path  comes  down  under  the 
loom  of  the  trees,  and,  next  moment,  a  voice  as  if 
some  person  was  drowning  and  guggling  for  help. 
So  I  fit  and  unmoored  again,  and  pushed  across  for 
dear  life,  just  in  time  to  see  a  man  scrambling  ashore. 
He  was  as  drunk  as  a  fly,  sir,  even  after  his  wetting. 
Said  he  was  a  retired  seaman  living  at  Penzance,  had 
come  around  to  Falmouth  on  a  lime-barge  bound  for 
the  Truro  river,  and  must  get  back  to  St.  Austell  in 
time  to  attend  his  sister's  wedding  there  next  morn- 
ing. Told  me  his  sister's  name,  but  I  forget  it. 
Said  he'd  fallen  in  with  some  brave  fellows  at  Fal- 
mouth just  returned  from  the  French  war-prisons, 
and  had  taken  a  glass  or  two.  Gave  me  half-a-crown 
when  I  brought  him  over  and  landed  him,'  said  the 

195 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

ferryman,  '  and  too  far  gone  in  liquor  to  understand 
the  mistake  if  I'd  explained  it  to  him,  which  I  didn't.' 
He  was  dressed  in  what  appeared  to  be  a  dark  cloth 
jacket,  duck  trousers  of  seagoing  cut,  and  a  tarpaulin 
hat.  '  There  was  just  moon  enough,'  said  the  ferry- 
man, '  to  let  a  man  take  notice  of  his  trousers,  they 
being  white;  and  maybe  I  took  particular  notice  of 
his  legs,  because  they  were  dripping  wet.  As  for  his 
face,  by  the  glimpse  I  had  of  it,  he  was  a  middle-aged 
man  that  had  seen  trouble.'  I  asked  if  he  would 
know  the  man  again.  He  said  '  Yes,'  he  was  pretty 
sure  he  would.  So  there,  Lydia,  you  have  the  vil- 
lain dogging  Coffin,  tracking  him  to  Pereuil,  and 
shamming  drunk  to  get  carried  over  the  ferry  in  pur- 
suit. On  Bogue's  testimony  he  was  as  sober  as  a 
judge  at  St.  Mawes,  and  drank  but  one  glass  of  grog 
there,  and  from  St.  Mawes  to  Pereuil  is  but  a  step, 
mainly  by  footpath  over  the  fields,  with  no  public- 
house  on  the  way." 

"  H'm,"  said  Miss  Belcher;  "  and  yet  he  couldn't 
have  been  following  the  man  to  murder  him,  or  he 
must  have  taken  more  care  to  cover  up  his  traces. 
All  his  concern  seems  to  have  been  to  follow  Coffin 
without  being  seen  by  him.     Is  that  all?  " 

"  My  dear  Lydia,  consider  the  amount  of  time  I've 
had!  Almost  before  I'd  finished  with  Bogue,  and 
certainly  before  the  filly  was  well  rested,  Mr.  Good- 

19G 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  CORNER  CUPBOARD 

fellow  here  had  crossed  to  Falmouth  and  was  back 
again,  bringing  the  cupboard " 

"  Yes,  Jack;  you  have  done  very  well — surpris- 
ingly well.  But  I'll  not  hand  over  my  guinea  until 
we've  examined  the  cupboard.  Here,  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  " — she  cleared  a  space  amid  the  breakfast 
things — "  be  so  good  as  to  lift  it  on  to  the  table. 
Harry,  where's  the  key?" 

I  produced  it. 

"  A  nice  bit  of  work ;  and  Dutch,  by  the  look  of 
it,"  she  commented,  pausing  to  admire  the  inlaid  pat- 
tern as  she  inserted  the  key.  She  turned  it,  and  the 
door  fell  back,  askew  on  its  broken  hinges. 

Mr.  Goodfellow  had  carried  the  cupboard  with  in- 
finite care,  but  the  contents,  I  need  not  say,  had 
mixed  themselves  up  in  wild  disorder,  though  noth- 
ing was  broken — not  even  the  pot  of  guava- jelly. 
They  included  a  superannuated  watch  in  a  loose 
silver  case,  a  medal  (in  bronze)  struck  to  commemo- 
rate Lord  Howe's  famous  victory  of  the  First  of 
June,  two  pieces-of-eight  and  a  spade  guinea  (much 
clipped);  a  small  china  mug  painted  with  libellous 
portraits  of  King  George  III.  and  his  consort;  a 
printed  pamphlet  on  Admiral  Byng,  two  strings  of 
shells,  a  mourning-ring  with  a  lock  of  hair  set  be- 
tween two  pearls  under  glass;  another  ring  with  a 
tiny  picture  of  a  fountain  and  urn,  and  a  weeping 

197 


POISOX    ISLAND 

\villow;  a  paper  containing  a  baby's  caul  and  a  sam- 
pler worked  with  the  A.B.C.  and  the  Lord's  Prayer 
and  signed  "A.  C,  1785;"  a  gourd,  a  few  glass 
beads,  and  a  Chinese  opium-pipe;  and  lastly,  a  thick 
paper  roll  bound  in  yellow-stained  parchment.  The 
roll  was  tied  about  with  string,  and  the  string  was 
sealed,  in  coarse  wax  without  imprint. 

Miss  Belcher  dived  a  hand  into  a  fold  of  her  skirt, 
and  drew  forth  a  most  unladylike  clasp-knife. 

"  Now  for  it!  "  said  Miss  Belcher. 


198 


CHAPTEE   XIX 


CAPTAIN  Danny's  log 


As  she  severed  the  string  the  roll  fell  open  and 
disclosed  itself  as  a  book  of  small  quarto  shape, 
bound  in  limp  parchment,  with  strings  to  tie  the  cov- 
ers together.  Its  pages,  measuring  9^  by  8  in.,  were 
sixty-four,  and  numbered  throughout;  but  a  bare 
third  of  them  were  written  on,  and  these  in  an  un- 
formed hand  which  yet  was  eloquent  of  much.  A 
paragraph  would  start  with  every  letter  drawn  as 
carefully  as  in  a  child's  copy-book;  would  gradually 
straggle  and  let  its  words  fall  about,  as  though  faint- 
ing by  the  way;  and  so  would  tail  into  incoherence, 
to  be  picked  up — next  day,  no  doubt — by  a  new 
effort,  which,  after  marching  for  half  a  dozen  lines, 
in  its  turn  collapsed.  There  were  lacunae,  too,  when 
the  shaking  hand  had  achieved  but  a  few  weak  zig- 
zags before  it  desisted.  The  two  last  pages  were 
scribbled  over  with  sums — or,  to  speak  more  cor- 
rectly, with  combinations  of  figures  resembling  sums. 
Here  is  a  single  example: 

199 


POISON    ISLAND 

Ode  to  W.  Bate 
To  bacca    . .         . .       9i 
Haircutt     . .  . .        1 

Bliddin*      ..  ..        18d. 

To  more  bacca  Oct.  10th  do. 
Ditto  and  shave  ditto    ditto 


Mem.  do.  to  him  . .       2s.  6d. 

The  fly-leaf  started  bravely  with  "  D.  Cofiin,  His 
Book."  After  this  the  captain  had  fallen  to  prac- 
tising his  signature  by  way  of  start.  "  D.  Coffin," 
''Danl.  Coffin,"  "  Danyel  Coffin,"  over  and  over, 
and  once  "  D.  Coffin,  Esq."  followed  by  "  Steal  not 
this  Book  for  fear  of  shame." 

Danl.  Coffin  is  my  name 
England  is  my  nation 
Fahnth  "     "        dwelling-place 
And  hopes  to  see  Salivation. 

After  these  exercises  came  a  blank  page,  and  then, 
half-way  down  the  next,  abruptly,  without  title,  be- 
gan the  manuscript  which  I  will  call  Captain  Coffin's 
statement. 

"  Pass  it  to  Lydia,"  said  Mr.  Rogers.  "  She  reads 
like  a  parson." 

"  Better  than  most,  I  hope,"  said  Miss  Belcher, 
taking  the  book;  and  this — I  omit  the  faults  of  spell- 
ing— is  what  she  read  aloud: 

*Qy.  "Bleeding.". 
200 


CAPTAIN   DAj^NY'S    LOG 

Mem.     Began  this  August  15th,  1812. 

Mem.  Am  going  to  tell  about  the  treasure,  and 
what  happened.  But  it  will  be  no  use  without  the 
map.  If  any  one  tries  to  bring  up  trouble,  this  is  the 
truth  and  nothing  else.  Amen.  So  be  it.  Signed, 
D.  Coffin. 

My  father  followed  the  sea,  and  bred  me  to  it. 
He  came  from  Devonshire,  near  Exmouth.  ]S[.B. — 
He  used  to  say  the  Coffins  were  a  great  family  in 
Devonshire,  and  as  old  as  any;  but  it  never  did  him 
no  good.  He  was  an  only  son,  and  so  was  I,  but  I 
had  an  older  sister,  now  dead.  She  grew  up  and 
married  a  poultryman  in  Quay  Street,  Bristol.  I  re- 
member the  wedding.  Died  in  childbed  a  year  later, 
me  being  at  that  time  on  my  first  voyage. 

We  lived  at  Bristol,  at  the  foot  of  Christmas 
Stairs,  left-hand  side  going  up,  two  doors  from  the 
bottom.  My  mother  from  Stonehouse,  Gloster, 
where  they  make  cloth,  specially  red  cloth  for  sol- 
diers' coats.  Her  maiden  name  Daniels.  She  was  a 
religious  woman,  and  taught  me  the  Bible.  My 
father  was  lost  at  sea,  being  knocked  overboard  by 
the  boom  in  half  a  gale,  two  miles  S.AV.  of  Lundy. 
I  was  sixteen  at  the  time,  and  apprentice  as  cabin- 
boy  on  board  the  same  ship,  the  "  Caroline,"  bound 
from  Hayle  to  Cardiff  with  copper  ore.  I  went  home 
and  broke  the  news  to  my  mother;  and  she  told  me 

201 


POISOX    ISLAND 

then  what  I  didn't  know  before,  that  she  was  very 
poorly  provided  for.  I  will  say  this,  that  I  made  her 
a  good  son;  and  likewise,  that  I  never  had  no  luck 
till  I  struck  the  Treasure. 

I  was  bom  in  the  year  1750.  My  father's  death 
happened  1766.  From  that  time  till  my  twenty- 
seventh  year,  I  supported  my  mother.  She  died  of 
a  seizure  in  1777,  and  is  buried  by  St.  Mary's  Red- 
clif — we  having  moved  across  the  water  to  that  par- 
ish. Married  next  year,  Elizabeth  Porter,  in  service 
with  Soames  Eennalls,  Esquire,  Alderman  of  the 
City.  She  had  been  brought  up  an  orphan  by  the 
Colston  Charity;  a  good  pious  woman,  and  bore  me 
one  child,  a  daughter — a  dear  little  one.  Child  lived 
and  throve  up  to  the  year  1787,  me  all  the  time  com- 
ing and  going  on  voyages,  mostly  coasting,  too  nu- 
merous to  mention.  Then  the  smallpox  carried  her 
off  with  my  affectionate  wife,  the  both  in  one  week. 
At  which  I  cursed  all  things,  and  for  several  years 
ran  riot,  not  caring  what  I  said  or  did. 

Was  employed,  from  1790  on,  in  the  slave  trade, 
by  W.  S.,  merchant  of  Bristol;  must  have  made  as 
many  as  a  dozen  passages  before  lea\nng  him  and 
shipping  on  the  "  Mary  PjTisent,"  Pink,  Bristol — 
owned  by  a  new  company  of  adventurers.  She  was 
an  old  boat,  and  known  to  me,  but  not  the  whole 
story  of  her.    I  signed  as  mate.    We  were  bound  for 

202 


CAPTAIN    DAjSTXY'S    LOG 

the  W.  Coast,  about  50  leagues  E.  of  Cape  Corse 
Castle,  with  gunpowder  and  old  firearms  for  the  na- 
tives, that  were  most  always  at  war  with  one  another. 
Ran  coastwise  and  touched  at  three  or  four  places 
on  the  way,  and  at  each  of  them  peddled  powder 
and  muskets,  the  muskets  being  most  profitable,  by 
reason  the  blacks  have  no  notion  of  repairing  a  gun. 
So  we,  carrying  a  gunsmith  on  board,  bought  up  at 
one  place  the  guns  that  wanted  repairs,  and  sold 
them  at  the  next  for  new  pieces.  In  this  way  we 
came  to  the  mouth  of  a  river  full  of  slime  and  mos- 
quitoes, called  the  Popo  River.  There  a  whole  tribe 
of  niggers  put  out  to  us. 

They  knew  the  "  Mary  Pynsent,"  and,  worse  luck, 
her  last  trip,  when  owned  by  Mr.  W.  S.,  aforesaid, 
she  had  sold  them  1,500  kegs  of  sifted  sea-coal  dust, 
passing  it  off  for  gunpowder,  and  had  made  off  with 
£7,000  worth  of  gold  dust,  besides  ivory,  white  and 
hlack,  before  they  discovered  the  trick.  We  being 
without  knowledge  of  what  had  happened,  and  hav- 
ing real  gunpowder  to  sell,  let  the  niggers  swarm  on 
board.  Whereupon  they  attacked  us  and  clubbed  all 
the  crew  but  me,  that  was  getting  out  the  boat  under 
the  seaward  quarter  and  baling  her,  but  dived  as  soon 
as  the  murder  began,  and  swam  to  the  shore.  The 
shore  was  mudbanks  and  reeds  and  mangroves.  I 
spent  that  day  in  liiding.     Towards  sunset  the  sav- 

203 


POISOX    ISLAND 

ages  rafted  a  good  third  of  the  cargo  ashore,  and, 
liaving  stacked  the  kegs  and  built  a  fire  about  them, 
started  to  dance,  making  a  silly  mock  of  the  powder, 
till  it  blew  up.  Which  it  did,  and  must  have  killed 
hundreds. 

I  heard  the  noise  of  it  at  about  two  miles'  distance, 
having  crept  out  of  my  hiding  when  I  saw  them 
busy,  and  started  to  tramp  it  along  shore  to  Cape 
Corse  Castle.  I  had  no  food,  and  must  have  died  but 
that  next  morning  I  fell  in  with  a  tribe  that  seemed 
pleased  to  see  me,  which  was  lucky,  me  having  no 
strength  left  to  run.  They  took  me  to  their  kraal,  a 
mile  inland,  and  to  a  hut  where  was  a  man  lying  in 
a  fever.  He  was  a  man  covered  with  dirt  and  ver- 
min, but  at  first  sight  of  his  face  I  knew  him  to  be 
a  white  man  and  English.  Ever  since  my  first  voy- 
age to  these  parts  I  carried  a  small  box  in  my  pocket, 
filled  with  bark  of  Peru,  wliich  is  the  best  cure  for 
coast  fever.  I  took  out  some  and  made  it  understood 
that  I  wanted  a  fire  lit  and  some  water ;  boiled  up  the 
bark  and  made  him  drink  it.  After  that  I  nursed 
him  for  three  days. 

The  second  day  he  sits  up  and  says  in  English: 
"  Who  are  you  ?  "  So  I  told  him.  Then  he  says : 
"  Why  are  you  doing  this  for  me  ?  You  wouldn't  do 
it  if  you  knew  who  I  am."  "  I'd  do  it,"  I  said,  "  if 
you  were  the  devil."     "  I  am  next  door  to  him,"  he 

204 


CAPTAIX    DAXNY'S    LOG 

says.  "  I  am  Melhiiisli,  of  the  Poison  Island  Treas- 
ure." "  I  never  heard  of  it,"  said  I.  "  There's 
others  call  it  the  Priests'  Treasure,"  says  he;  "and 
if  you  have  never  heard  of  it,  you  cannot  have  sailed 
anywheres  near  the  Bay  of  Honduras."  "  ISTever  in 
my  life,"  I  said.  "  ]\Iy  business  has  lain  along  this 
coast.  But  what  of  it  ?  "  "  What  of  it  ?  "  he  savs, 
sitting  uj^,  his  eyes  all  shining  with  the  fever,  "  why, 
nothing,  except  that  I  am  one  of  the  richest  men  in 
the  world."  I  set  this  down  to  raving.  "  You  don't 
believe  me  ?  "  he  asks.  "  Why,"  I  answers,  "  this  is 
a  funny  sort  of  place  for  a  nabob,  and  that  you  must 
allow ;  and  that  from  here  to  Honduras  is  a  long 
step,"  I  say.  "  You  fool !  "  said  he,  "  that  is  the 
verv  reason  of  it.  I  don't  believe  in  a  hell  on  the 
t'other  shore  of  this  life,  whatever  your  views  may 
be.  You  go  to  sleep  and  have  done  with  it — that's 
my  belief.  But  I  believe  in  hell  upon  earth,  be- 
cause I  have  lived  in  it.  And  I  believe  in  a  devil 
on  earth,  because  I  lived  months  in  his  company; 
but  he  can't  be  as  clever  as  the  priests  make  out, 
because  I  came  here  to  hide  from  him,  and  hidden 
I  have." 

With  that  he  fell  into  cursing  and  raving,  but 
after  a  time  he  grew  quiet,  and  said  he :  "  Daniel 
Coffin,  if  that  is  your  name,  there's  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  men  walking  this  world  would  envy  you 

205 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

at  this  moment.  And  why?  Because  I  can  make 
you  richer  than  any  Lord  Mayor  in  his  coach;  and, 
what's  more,  I  wilL" 

He  said  no  more  that  evening,  but  next  day  woke 
up  towards  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  seemingly 
very  clear  in  his  wits,  and  asked  me  to  slip  a  hand 
under  his  pillow  and  take  out  what  I  foinid  there. 
Which  I  took  out  a  piece  of  parchment.  lie  said : 
"  Coffin,  I  am  going  to  be  as  good  as  my  word.  That 
there  wdiich  you  hold  in  your  hand  is  a  map  of  the 
Island  of  Mortallone,  where  the  treasure  lies.  I  will 
tell  you  how  I  come  by  it. 

"  My  home,"  he  said,  "  was  St.  Mary's,  in  New- 
foundland, which  is  but  a  small  harbor  and  a  few 
wood  houses  gathered  about  a  factory.  The  factory 
belonged  to  a  firm  at  Carbonear,  and  employed,  one 
way  and  another,  all  the  people  in  the  place,  in  num- 
ber less  than  two  hundred.  The  women  worked  at 
the  fish-curing,  along  wdth  the  children  and  some  old 
men,  but  the  able-bodied  men  belonged  mostly  to  the 
Labrador  fleet,  or  manned  a  two-tliree  small  vessels 
that  made  regular  voyages  to  the  Island  of  St.  Jago 
to  fetch  home  salt  for  the  pickling.  My  mother,  be- 
sides working  at  the  factory,  kept  a  boarding-house 
for  seamen.  In  this  she  was  helped  by  my  only  sis- 
ter, a  middle-aged  woman  and  single.  My  mother 
was  a  widow.     She  kept  her  house  very  respectable, 

20G 


CAPTAIX    DAXXY'S    LOG 

but  the  business  was  slight,  the  town  being  empty  of 
men  most  of  the  year. 

"  In  the  autumn  of  'ninety-eight,  arriving  home 
with  salt  as  usual  from  St.  Jago,  I  found  a  stranger 
lodging  in  the  house.  He  had  come  over  from  Car- 
'bonear  with  a  party  of  clerks,  and  had  taken  a  fancy 
to  the  place — or  so  he  said — besides  which,  it  had 
been  recommended  to  him  for  his  health,  which  was 
delicate.  He  was  a  common-spoken  man,  aged  be- 
tween fifty  and  sixty,  and  looked  like  a  skipper  that 
had  hauled  ashore ;  but  he  never  talked  about  the  sea 
in  mv  hearing,  and  he  never  mixed  with  the  other 
lodgers.  He  rented  a  separate  room  and  kept  to  it. 
His  habits  were  simple,  and  his  manner  very  quiet 
and  friendly,  though  he  spoke  as  little  as  he  could 
help,  unless  to  my  sister.  My  mother  liked  him  be- 
cause he  paid  his  way  and  seemed  to  like  wdiatever 
food  was  put  before  him.  The  only  thing  he  com- 
23lained  about  was  the  cold. 

"  I  had  been  at  home  for  three  weeks  and  a  little 
more  wlien  one  evening,  as  I  was  passing  downstairs 
from  my  bedroom  in  the  attic,  this  Mr.  Shand — that 
was  the  name  he  gave  us — called  me  into  his  room 
and  showed  me  a  small  bird  he  had  picked  up  dead 
on  the  sands.  He  did  not  know  its  name,  and  I  w^as 
too  ignorant  to  tell  him.  We  stood  there  looking  at 
it  under  the  lamp. when  my  sister  came  upstairs  with 

207 


POISON    ISLAND 

a  note  and  word  that  the  messenger  was  waiting  out- 
side for  an  answer.  Mr,  Shand  took  the  note  and 
read  it  under  the  lamp.  Then  he  turned  to  the  fire, 
and  stood  with  his  back  to  us  for  a  moment.  I  saw 
him  drop  the  note  into  the  fire.  He  faced  round  to 
us  again  and  said  he  to  my  sister :  '  Mary,  my  dear, 
here  is  something  I  want  you  to  keep  for  me.  Do  not 
look  at  it  to-night;  and  when  you  do,  show  it  to  no 
one  but  your  brother  here,'  With  that  he  gave  her 
the  very  packet  you  have  in  your  hand,  shook  hands 
with  us  both,  and  went  downstairs.  We  never  saw 
liim  again.  Tlie  weather  was  thick,  with  some  snow 
falling,  and  the  snow  got  worse  towards  midnight. 
We  waited  up  till  we  were  tired,  but  he  did  not  re- 
turn that  niglit,  nor  the  next  day.  Three  days  later 
his  body  was  found  in  a  drift  of  snow,  half-way  doA\Ti 
a  cliff  to  the  west  of  the  tovra.  The  right  leg  and 
arm  were  broken  and  two  ribs  on  the  same  side," 

I  asked :  "  Who  was  the  man  that  brought  the  mes- 
sage ?  "  Melhuish  said :  "  My  sister  could  not  tell,  ex- 
cept that  he  was  a  stranger.  She  supposed  he  be- 
longed to  one  of  two  ships  that  had  arrived  in  harbor 
the  day  before.  She  saw  nothing  of  his  face  to  re- 
member, his  jacket-collar  being  turned  up  against  the 
snow,  and  the  flaps  of  his  fur  cap  pulled  dowa  over 
his  ears," 

I  asked :  "  Did  the  man's  chest  tell  nothing  when 

208 


CAPTAIX    DANNY'S    LOG 

you  came  to  examine  it  ?  "  Melhuish  said :  "  Noth- 
ing at  all.  It  was  full  of  new  clothes,  and  very  good 
clothes ;  but  they  had  no  mark  upon  them,  and,  be- 
sides the  clothes,  there  was  not  so  much  as  a  scrap 
of  paper." 

He  went  on :  "  About  two  weeks  later  there  called 
a  clerk  from  the  factory  to  claim  the  chest,  the  firm 
having  acted  as  Mr.  Shand's  agents.  He  was  a  for- 
eign-looking man,  and  older  than  most  of  the  clerks 
employed  by  Davis  and  Atchison — which  was  the 
firm's  name.  He  gave  his  own  name  as  Martin.  He 
had  been  sent  over  from  Carbonear  about  ten  days 
before  to  teach  the  factory  a  new  way  of  treat- 
ing seal-pelts  by  means  of  chemicals.  We  learned 
afterwards  that  he  earned  good  wages.  He  had 
brought  two  hands  from  the  factory  to  carry  the 
chest,  which  we  gave  up  to  him  as  soon  as  he  pre- 
sented a  letter  from  Mr.  Hughes,  the  firm's  chief 
agent.  He  said :  '  Is  this  all  you  have  ? '  And  we 
said  '  Yes.'  We  kept  quiet  about  the  map,  which  we 
had  examined,  but  could  not  make  head  nor  tail  of 
it.  He  went  away  with  the  chest,  and  we  heard  no 
more  of  the  matter.  The  winter  closing  in,  I  took 
service  in  the  factory.  I  used  to  run  against  this 
Martin  almost  every  day,  but  being  my  superior  he 
never  got  beyond  nodding  to  me. 

"  So  it  went  on,  that  winter.     The  next  spring  I 

209 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

sailed  with  the  salting  fleet  as  usual.  I  was  mate  by 
this  time,  and  had  learned  to  navigate.  I  came  back, 
to  find  Martin  seated  in  the  parlor  and  talking,  and 
my  mother  told  me  he  had  asked  my  sister  to  marry 
him.  They  had  met  at  the  factory  and  fixed  it  up 
between  them.  He  appeared  to  be  very  fond  of  my 
sister,  who  was  usually  reckoned  a  plain-featured 
woman,  and  there  couldn't  be  a  doubt  she  was  fond 
of  him.  Later  on,  I  heard  that  she  had  told  him  all 
about  the  chart. 

'•  He  opened  the  subject  himself  about  a  week 
later,  during  which  I  had  become  very  thick  with 
him.  He  said  that,  in  his  belief,  there  was  money  in 
it,  and  I  w^as  a  fool  not  to  take  it  up.  I  answered. 
What  could  I  do  ?  He  said  there  was  ways  and 
means  that  a  lad  of  spirit  ought  to  be  able  to  discover. 
With  that  he  dropped  talking  of  it  for  that  day,  but 
it  cropped  up  again,  and  by  little  and  little  he  so 
worked  on  me  that  I  took  to  dreaming  of  the  cursed 
thing. 

"  This  went  on  for  another  fortnight,  during 
which  time  he  told  me  a  deal  about  himself,  very 
frank — as  that  he  was  the  son  of  an  English  sea- 
captain  and  a  Spanish  woman,  and  was  born  in 
Havana ;  that  he  had  been  educated  by  the  Jesuits, 
wlio  had  meant  to  make  a  priest  of  liim;  that,  not 
Leing  able  to  abide  the  Spaniards,  he  had  crossed 

.0 


CAPTAIX    DAXXY'S    LOG 

over  to  Port  Royal  and  studied  chemistry  in  the  col- 
lege there.  It  was  there,  he  said,  he  had  discovered 
a  preparation  for  curing  the  hides  of  animals  so 
that  the  hair  never  dropped  off,  but  remained  as  firm 
and  fresh  as  life.  He  told  me  that  for  this  secret 
Davis  and  Atchison  paid  him  better  than  any  of 
their  clerks. 

"  At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  he  sailed  for  Carbo- 
near.  He  returned  as  I  was  making  ready  for  the 
summer  trip,  and  laid  a  scheme  before  me  that  took 
my  breath  away.  He  had  spoken  to  Mr.  i\.tcliison, 
the  junior  partner,  and  engaged  a  schooner,  the 
*  Willing  Mind  ' ;  likewise  a  crew.  I  was  to  com- 
mand her,  beina-  the  onlv  one  of  the  lot  that  under- 
stood  navigation.  For  the  crew  he  had  picked  up  a 
mixed  lot  at  Carbonear  and  St.  John's — good  sea- 
men, but  not  natives  and  mostly  unknown  to  one 
another.  They  were  the  less  likely,  he  said,  to  smell 
out  our  game  until  we  reached  the  island,  and  for 
the  rest  I  might  trust  to  him.  He  had  laid  our  plans 
before  Mr.  Atchison,  who  approved.  If  I  listened  to 
him  without  arguing,  he  would  make  my  fortune  and 
mv  sister's  as  well. 

"  I  had  never  met  a  man  of  his  quality  before.  I 
was  a  young  fool,  yet  not  altogether  such  a  fool  but 
I  had  persuaded  my  sister  to  hand  the  map  over  to 
me  and  wore  it  always  about  me.     She  told  me  that 

211 


POISOX    ISLATv'D 

she  had  sho\\Ti  it  twice  to  Martin,  but  never  for  more 
than  two  minutes  at  a  time,  and  had  never  let  it  go 
out  of  her  hands.  I  wonder  now  that  he  didn't  mur- 
der her  for  it ;  and  the  only  reason  must  be  that  he 
reckoned  to  use  me  for  navigating  the  ship,  and  then 
to  get  rid  of  me. 

"  A  fool  I  was  even  to  the  extent  of  letting  him 
talk  me  over  when  I  found  he  had  engaged  twelve 
hands  for  the  cruise.  There  was  no  .reason  on  earth 
for  this  number  except  that  these  were  the  gang  after 
the  treasure,  and  that  he  was  playing  with  the  lot  of 
them,  same  as  with  me. 

"  The  upshot  was  that  we  said  good-by  to  my 
mother  and  sister,  and  crossed  over  to  Carbonear, 
wdiere  I  made  acquaintance  with  my  crew.  The 
number  of  them  raised  no  suspicion  in  the  port,  be- 
cause it  was  taken  for  granted  the  '  Willing  Mind,' 
an  old  salt  ship,  w^as  bound  for  St.  Jago,  where  ten 
or  a  dozen  hands  are  nothing  unusual  to  work  the 
salt ;  and  this  was  the  argument  he  had  used  to  make 
me  carry  so  many.  Our  pretence  was  we  were  all 
bound  for  St.  Jago,  and  the  crew  seemed  to  take  this 
for  understood.  I  didn't  like  their  looks.  Martin 
said  they  "were  an  ignorant  lot,  and  chosen  for  that 
reason.  All  I  had  to  do  was  to  run  south,  and  he  un- 
dertook to  give  them  the  slip  at  the  first  point  we 
touched. 

212 


CAPTAIN   DANNY'S    LOG 

"  He  had  a  wonderful  command  over  them,  con- 
sidering that  he  was  but  one  plotter  in  a  dozen ;  and 
for  reasons  of  his  own  he  kept  them  off  me  and  the 
map.  On  our  way  he  proposed  to  me  that  I  should 
teach  him  a  little  navigation ;  helped  me  to  take  the 
reckonings ;  and  picked  it  up  as  easy  as  a  child  learns 
its  letters.  But  his  keeping  watch  over  me  and  the 
map  was  what  broke  up  the  crew's  patience.  I  was 
holding  the  schooner  straight  down  for  the  Gulf  of 
Honduras,  and  by  my  reckoning  within  a  few  hours 
of  making  a  landfall,  wondering  all  the  while  that 
they  took  the  courses  I  laid  without  grumbling — 
though  by  this  time  our  course  was  past  all  explain- 
ing— when  the  quarrel  broke  out. 

"  I  was  standing  by  the  wheel  with  a  seaman,  Dick 
Hayling  by  name,  a  civil  fellow  and  more  to  my 
liking  than  the  most  of  them,  when  we  heard  a  racket 
in  the  forecastle,  and  by  and  by  Martin — he  was  too 
fond,  to  my  taste,  of  going  down  into  the  forecastle 
and  making  free  with  the  men — comes  up  the  hatch- 
way, very  serious,  with  half  a  dozen  behind  him. 

" '  Melhuish,'  says  he,  ^  there's  trouble  below. 
The  men  will  have  it  that  we  are  steering  for  treas- 
ure. I  tell  them  that,  if  you  are,  they  are  bound  to 
know  as  soon  as  we  sight  it,  and  neither  you  nor  I — 
being  two  to  twelve — can  prevent  their  having  the 
game  in  their  own  hands.     I  have  told  them,  over 

213 


POISON    ISLAND 

and  above  this/  he  went  on,  pitching  his  voice  loud 
— but  having  his  back  towards  them  he  winked  at 
me — '  that  by  your  reckoning  we  shall  sight  land  in 
a  few  hours  at  farthest,  and  are  willing  to  serve  out 
a  double  lot  of  rum;  that,  as  soon  as  ever  land  is 
sighted,  you  will  call  all  hands  aft  and  tell  them  our 
intention,  as  man  to  man;  and  that  then,  if  they 
have  a  mind,  they  can  elect  whatever  new  captain 
they  choose." 

"  The  impudence  of  this  took  me  fair  between 
wind  and  water.  I  saAv,  of  course,  that  I  was 
trapped,  and  naturally  my  first  thought  was  to  sus- 
pect the  man  speaking  to  me.  I  looked  at  him,  and 
he  winked  again,  not  seeming  one  bit  abashed. 

" '  You  may  tell  them,'  said  I,  with  my  eyes  on 
his  face,  '  that  as  soon  as  we  sight  land  I  shall  have 
a  statement  to  make  to  them.'  I  wondered  what  it 
would  be;  but  I  said  it  to  gain  time.  '  As  for  the 
rum,'  I  went  on,  '  they  can  drink  their  fill.  If  we 
sight  land,  I  will  steer  the  ship  in.' 

"  '  Better  go  and  draw  the  liquor  yourself,'  said 
he,  and,  picking  up  a  ship's  bucket,  came  aft  to  me. 
*  The  second  barrel  in  the  after-hold,'  he  whispered. 
'  And  don't  drink  any  yourself.' 

"  I  nodded,  as  careless  as  I  could.  It  seemed  a 
rash  thing  to  go  down  to  the  after-hold,  where  any 
one  might  batten  me  down.    But,  there  being  no  help 

214 


CxVPTAIX    DANNY'S    LOG 

for  it,  I  took  the  bucket  and  went.  I  filled  it  well 
up  to  the  brim  from  the  second  cask,  returned  to 
deck,  and  handed  it  to  the  man  who  stood  behind 
Martin.  They  took  it  pretty  respectfully,  and  went 
below,  Martin  still  standing  amidships,  where  he  had 
stood  from  the  first. 

"  ^  And  now,'  said  I,  turning  back  to  him,  '  per- 
haps you  will  explain.' 

"  '  Keep  your  eye  on  the  helmsman,'  was  his  an- 
swer, '  and  pistol  him  if  he  gives  trouble.' 

"  And  with  that  he  walked  forward  and  stood  lean- 
ing over  the  forehatch,  seeming  to  listen."  .  .  . 


215 


CHAPTER   XX 

CAPTAIN  Danny's  log  {continued) 

Up  to  this  Melliuish  had  been  making  good  weatlier 
of  his  tale,  though  forced  to  break  off  once  or  twice 
by  reason  of  his  weakness.  But  here  he  came  to  a 
stop,  which  at  first  I  set  down  to  the  same.  But  by 
and  by  I  looks  up.  He  was  fetching  a  curious  noiso 
in  his  throat,  and  fencing  with  both  hands  to  push 
something  away  from  him. 

"  I  never  done  it !  "  he  broke  out.  "  Take  them 
away!  I  never  done  it!  Oh,  my  God— never — 
never — ^never !  " 

With  that  he  ran  off  into  a  string  of  prayers  and 
cursings,  all  mixed  up  together,  the  fever  shaking 
him  like  a  sail  caught  head-to-wind,  and  at  every 
shake  he  screeched  louder. 

"  I  won't,  I  won't!  "  he  kept  saying.  "  Hayling, 
take  that  devil  off  and  cover  them  up.  The  boat, 
Hayling !  Fetch  the  boat  and  cover  them  up !  " 
Then,  a  little  after :  "  Who  says  the  anchor's  fouled  ? 
How  can  I  tell  for  the  noise  ?    Tell  them,  less  noise 

216 


CAPTAIN    DANNY'S    LOG 

below.  I  never  done  it,  tell  them!  And  take  his 
grinning  face  out  of  the  way,  or  you'll  never  get  it 
clear!  'Tisn't  Christian  burial — look  at  their  fins! 
Blast  them,  Hayling,  look  at  their  fins !  Three  feet 
of  sand,  or  they'll  never  stay  covered.  Who  says  as 
I  poisoned  them  ?  Hayling  knows.  Where  is  Hay- 
ling?" 

I  am  writing  down  all  I  can  remember ;  but  there 
was  a  heap  more  I  didn't  catch,  being  kept  busy 
enough  holding  him  down  till  the  strength  went  out 
of  him  and  he  lay  quiet;  which  it  did  in  time,  the 
shivers  running  down  through  him  between  my 
hands,  and  his  voice  muttering  all  the  same. 

I  hoped  he  would  fall  asleep ;  for  his  voice  weak- 
ened little  by  little,  and  by  and  by  he  just  lay  and 
stared  up  at  the  roof,  with  only  his  lips  moving. 
After  that  I  must  have  dropped  off  in  a  doze ;  for  I 
came  to  myself,  thinking  that  I  heard  him  speak  to 
me.  It  was  the  rattle  in  his  throat,  belike.  He  lay 
just  the  same^  with  his  eyes  staring;  but,  putting  out 
a  hand  to  him,  I  knew  at  once  that  the  man  was  dead 
as  a  nail. 

I  had  now  to  think  of  myself,  for  I  knew  that  the 
niggers  in  the  kraal  had  not  spared  me  out  of  kind- 
ness, but  only  that  I  might  tend  on  the  white  man, 
who  was  their  friend.  They  were  even  ignorant 
enough  to  believe  I  had  killed  him.    I  worked  out  my 

217 


POISON    ISLAND 

plan:  (1)  I  must  rim  for  it;  (2)  the  village  was 
asleep,  and  the  sooner  I  ran  the  better;  (3)  they  had 
met  me  heading  for  Cajoe  Corse  Castle,  and  would 
hunt  me  that  way — so  I  had  Lest  go  straight  back  on 
my  steps;  (4)  they  were  less  likely  to  chase  me  that 
Avay  because  it  led  into  the  Popo  country,  and  ]\Iel- 
huish  had  told  me  that  these  men  were  Alampas,  and 
afraid  of  the  Popo  tribes.  True,  if  I  headed  back, 
there  was  the  river  between  me  and  Whydah,  the 
nearest  station  to  eastward;  but  to  get  across  it  I 
must  trust  to  luck. 

I  crept  out  of  the  hut.  The  night  was  black  as  my 
hat,  almost,  and  no  guard  set.  At  the  edge  of  the 
kraal  I  made  a  dash  for  it,  and  kept  running  for 
three  miles.  After  that  I  ran  sometimes,  and  some- 
times walked.  The  sun  was  up  and  the  day  growing 
hot  when  I  came  to  the  shore  by  the  river ;  and  there 
in  the  ofRng  lay  the  "  Mary  Pynsent  "  at  anchor,  just 
as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and  the  boat  made  fast 
alongside  as  I  had  left  her.  If  I  could  swim  out  and 
get  into  the  boat,  my  job  was  done.  I  had  not 
thought  upon  sharks  while  swimming  ashore,  but 
now  I  thought  of  them,  and  it  gave  me  the  creeps.  I 
dare  say  I  sat  on  tlie  shore  for  an  hour,  staring  at  the 
boat,  before  I  made  up  my  mind  to  risk  it.  There 
was  a  plenty  of  sharks,  too.  When  I  reached  the 
boat  and  climbed  aboard  of  her,  I  took  a  look  around 

218 


CAPTAIi^    DAXNY'S    LOG 

and  saw  their  fins  playing  about  in  the  shallows, 
being  drawn  off  there  by  the  dead  bodies  the  gun- 
powder had  blown  into  the  water. 

The  boat  had  a  mast  and  spritsail  belonging  to 
her.  I  reckoned  that  I  would  wait  until  sunset,  then 
hoist  sail  and  hold  on  past  the  river  and  along  shore 
towards  Whydah.  I  counted  on  a  breeze  coming  off- 
shore towards  evening,  which  it  did,  and  blew  all 
night,  so  stiff  that  at  two  miles'  distance,  Avhich  I 
kept  by  guess,  I  could  smell  the  stink  of  swamps.  I 
ought  to  say  here  that,  before  starting,  I  had  climbed 
aboard  the  "  Mary  Pynsent "  and  provisioned  the 
boat.  The  niggers  had  left  a  few  stores,  but  the  mess 
on  board  made  me  sick. 

The  breeze  held  all  night,  and  towards  daybreak 
freshened  so  that  I  reckoned  myself  safe  against  any 
canoe  overtaking  me  if  any  should  put  out  from 
shore;  for  my  boat,  with  the  wind  on  her  quarter, 
was  making  from  six  to  seven  knots.  She  measured 
seventeen  feet. 

The  breeze  dried  up  as  the  day  grew  hotter,  and 
in  the  end  I  downed  sail  and  rowed  the  last  few 
miles.  I  knew  Whydah  pretty  well,  having  had  deal- 
ings there.  It  is  a  fine  place,  with  orange-trees  grow- 
ing wild  and  great  green  meadows,  and  rivers  chock 
full  of  fish,  and  the  whole  of  it  full  of  fever  as  an  egg 
is  of  meat.     The  factory  there  was  kept  by  an  old 

219 


POISON    ISLAND 

man,  an  Englishman,  who  pretended  to  be  Dutch  and 
called  himself  Klootz,  but  was  known  to  all  as  Bris- 
tol Pete.  The  building  stood  on  a  rise  at  the  back  of 
the  swamps.  It  had  a  verandah  in  front,  with  a  tier 
of  gims  which  he  loaded  and  fired  off  on  King 
George's  birthday,  and  in  the  rear  a  hell  of  a  bar- 
racks, where  he  kept  the  slaves,  ready  for  dealing. 
He  was  turned  sixty  and  grown  careless  in  his  talk, 
and  he  lived  there  with  nine,  wives  and  ten  strapping 
daughters.  Sons  did  not  thrive  with  him,  somehow. 
In  the  matter  of  men  he  was  short-handed,  his  habit 
being  to  entice  seamen  off  the  ships  trading  there  to 
take  service  with  him  on  the  promise  of  marrying 
them  up  to  his  daughters.  It  looked  like  a  good 
speculation,  for  the  old  man  had  money.  But  every 
one  of  the  women  was  a  widow,  and  the  most  of  them 
widowed  two-deep.  The  climate  never  agreed  with 
the  poor  fellows,  and  just  now  he  had  over  four  hun- 
dred slaves  in  barracks,  and  only  one  son-in-law,  an 
Englishman,  to  look  after  them. 

The  old  man  made  me  welcome.  A  father  couldn't 
have  shown  himself  kinder,  and  when  I  told  him 
about  the  "  Mary  Pynsent  "  he  could  hardly  contain 
himself. 

"  If  there's  one  thing  more  than  another  I  enjoy 
at  my  age,"  said  he,  "  it's  a  salvage  job." 

He  actually  left  the  agent — A.  G. — in  charge  of 

220 


CAPTAIN    DANNY'S    LOG 

the  slaves  for  three  days,  while  he  and  I  and  three  of 
the  women  took  boat  and  went  after  the  vessel.  "VVe 
found  her  still  at  her  moorings,  and  brought  her 
round  to  Whydah,  he  and  me  working  her  with  the 
youngest  of  the  three  (Sarah  by  name),  while  the 
two  others  cleaned  ship.  I  cannot  say  why  exactly, 
but  this  woman  appeared  superior  to  her  sisters,  be- 
sides being  the  best  looking.  The  old  man — he  had 
an  eye  lifting  for  everything — took  notice  of  this  al- 
most before  I  knew  it  myself,  and  put  it  to  me  that 
I  couldn't  do  better  than  to  marry  her.  The  woman, 
being  asked,  was  willing.  She  had  lost  two  husbands 
already,  she  told  me,  but  the  third  time  was  luck. 
Her  father  read  the  service  over  us,  out  of  a  Testa- 
ment he  always  carried  in  his  pocket.  As  for  me, 
since  my  poor  wife's  death  I  had  thoroughly  given 
myself  over  to  the  devil,  and  did  not  care.  Old 
Klootz  was  first-rate  company ;  though  living  in  that 
forsaken  place  he  seemed  to  be  a  dictionary  about 
every  ship  that  had  sailed  the  seas  for  forty  years 
past,  and  to  know  every  scandal  about  her.  He  lis- 
tened, too,  though  he  seemed  to  be  talking  in  his  full- 
hearted  way  all  the  time.  And  the  end  was  that  I 
told  him  about  Melhuish,  and  showed  him  the  map. 
He  had  heard  about  Melhuish,  as  about  everything 
else ;  but  the  map  did  truly  surprise  him.  "We  stud- 
ied it  together,  and  he  wound  up  by  saying: 

221 


POISOX    ISLAND 

"  Tliere's  a  clever  fellow  somewhere  at  the  bottom 
of  this,  and  I  should  like  to  make  his  acquaintance." 

Said  I :  "  Then  you  believe  there  is  such  a  treas- 
ure hidden?  " 

"  Lord  love  you,"  said  he,  "  I  know  all  about  that ! 
It  hapjiened  in  the  year  '86  at  Puerto  Bello.  A 
Spaniard,  Bartholomew  Diaz,  that  had  been  flogged 
for  some  trouble  in  the  mines,  stirred  up  a  revolt 
among  the  niggers  and  half-breeds,  and  came  march- 
ing down  upon  the  coast  at  the  head  of  14,000  or 
15,000  men,  sacking  the  convents  and  looting  the 
mines  on  his  way.  He  gave  himself  out  to  be  some 
sort  of  religious  prophet,  and  this  brought  the  blacks 
like  flies  round  a  honey-pot.  The  news  of  it  caught 
Puerto  Bello  at  a  moment  when  there  was  not  a  sin- 
gle Royal  ship  in  the  harbor.  The  Governor  lost 
his  head  and  the  priests  likewise.  Getting  word  that 
Diaz  was  marching  straight  on  the  place,  and  not  five 
leagues  distant,  they  fell  to  emptying  the  banks  in  a 
panic,  stripping  the  churches,  and  fetching  up  treas- 
ure from  the  vaults  of  the  religious  houses.  There 
happened  to  be  a  schooner  lying  in  the  harbor — the 
*  Rosaway,'  built  at  Marblehead — lately  taken  by  the 
Spaniards  off  Campeachy,  with  her  crew,  that  were 
THider  lock  and  key  ashore,  waiting  trial  for  cutting 
logwood  without  license.  The  priests  commandeered 
this  vessel  and  piled  her  up  with  gold,  the  Governor 

222 


CAPTAIX    DANNY'S    LOG 

sending  down  a  guard  of  soldiers  to  protect  it,  but  in 
the  middle  of  the  night,  on  an  alarm  that  Diaz 
had  come  within  a  mile  of  the  gates,  the  dunderhead 
drew  off  half  of  this  guard  to  strengthen  the  garrison. 
On  their  way  back  to  the  citadel  these  soldiers  were 
met  and  passed  in  the  dark  by  the  '  Rosaway's  '  crew, 
that  had  managed  to  break  prison,  and  in  the  confu- 
sion had  somehow  picked  up  the  password.  Sparke 
was  the  name  of  '  Rosaway's  '  skipper,  a  Marblehead 
man;  the  mate,  Griffiths,  came  from  somewhere  in 
"Wales,  the  rest,  five  in  num-ber,  being  likewise  mixed 
English  and  Americans.  They  picked  up  a  shore- 
boat  down  by  the  harbor,  rowed  off  to  the  ship,  got 
on  board  by  means  of  the  password,  and  within 
twenty  minutes  had  knocked  all  the  Spaniards  on  the 
head,  themselves  losing  only  one  man.  Thereupon, 
of  course,  they  slipped  cable  and  stood  out  to  sea. 
Xext  morning  the  '  Rosaway '  hadn't  been  three 
hours  out  of  sight  before  two  Spanish  gunships  came 
sailing  in  from  Cartagena,  having  been  sent  over  in  a 
hurry  to  protect  the  place,  and  one  of  them  started  in 
chase.  The  '  Rosaway,'  being  speed^^,  got  away  for 
the  time,  and  it  was  not  till  three  weeks  later  that  the 
Spaniards  ran  down  on  her,  snug  and  tight  at  anchor 
in  a  creek  of  this  same  island  of  IMortallone.  She  was 
empty  as  a  drum,  and  her  crew  ashore  in  a  jiretty 
state  of  fever  and  mutiny.     The  Spaniards  landed 

223 


POISOX    ISLAND 

aud  took  the  lot,  all  but  the  mate  Griffiths,  that  was 
supposed  to  have  been  knifed  by  Sparke,  but  two  of 
the  prisoners  declared  that  he  was  alive  and  hiding. 
They  hanged  four,  saving  only  Sparke,  keeping  him 
to  show  where  the  treasure  was  hidden.  He  led  them 
half-way  across  the  island,  lured  them  into  a  swamp, 
and  made  a  bolt  to  escape,  and  the  tale  is  he  was  get- 
ting clear  off  when  one  of  the  Spanish  seamen  let  fly 
with  his  musket  into  the  bushes  and  bowled  him  over 
like  a  rabbit.  It  was  a  chance  shot,  and  of  course  it 
put  an  end  to  all  hope  of  finding  the  treasure.  They 
ransacked  the  island  for  a  week  or  more,  but  found 
never  a  dollar;  and  before  giving  it  up  some  inclined 
to  believe  what  one  of  the  prisoners  had  said,  that  the 
treasure  had  never  been  buried  in  Mortallone  at  all, 
but  in  the  island  of  Eoatan,  some  leagues  to  the  east- 
ward. But,  if  you  ask  my  opinion,  the  stranger  that 
took  lodgings  with  Melhuish  was  the  mate  Griffiths, 
and  no  other.  There  has  always  been  rumors  that  he 
got  away  with  the  secret. 

"  Know  about  it?  "  said  old  Klootz.    "  Why,  there 
was  even  a  song  made  up  about  it : 

" '  0,  we  threw  the  bodies  over,  and  forth  we  did  stand 
Till  the  tenth  day  we  sighted  what  seemed  a  pleasant  land, 
And  alongst  the  Kays  of  Mortallone!'" 

From  the  first  the  old  man  had  no  doubt  but  we 
had  struck  the  secret.     All  the  wav  home  he  was 

224 


CAPTAIN    DAN^NY'S    LOG 

scheming,  and  the  very  night  we  reached  Whydah 
again  he  came  out  with  a  plan. 

"  Have  jou  ever  read  your  Bible  ?  "  said  he. 

"  A  little,"  I  said,  "  between  whiles ;  but  latterly 
not  much." 

"  The  more  shame  to  you,"  said  he,  "  for  it  is  a 
good  book.  But  you  ought  to  have  heard  of  Noah,  if 
you  ever  read  the  Book  at  all,  for  he  comes  almost  at 
the  beginning.  Well,  I've  a  notion  almost  as  good  as 
Noah's,  and  not  so  very  different.  We  will  take  the 
'  Mary  Pynsent '  and  put  all  the  family  on  board, 
for  we  must  take  A.  G.  (naming  the  Englishman,  his 
other  son-in-law),  and  I  don't  like  to  leave  the  women 
alone,  here  in  this  wicked  place.  We  will  pack  her 
up  with  slaves  and  sail  her  across  to  Barbadoes.  'Tis 
an  undertaking  for  a  man  of  my  years,  but  a  man  is 
not  old  until  he  feels  it ;  and  I  have  been  wanting  for 
a  long  time  to  see  if  trade  in  the  Barbadoes  is  so  bad 
as  the  skippers  pretend,  cutting  down  my  profits.  At 
Barbadoes  we  can  hire  a  pinnace.  Daniel  Coffin,  you 
and  me  will  go  into  this  business  in  partnership," 
says  he. 

The  old  fellow,  once  set  going,  had  the  pluck  of 
a  boy.  The  very  next  night  he  called  in  A.  G.,  and 
took  him  into  the  secret,  in  his  bluff  way  overriding 
me,  that  was  for  keeping  it  close  between  us  two. 
That  the  map  was  mine  did  not  trouble  him.     He 

225 


POISON    ISLAXD 

agreed  that  I  should  be  guardian  of  it,  but  took 
charge  of  all  the  outfit,  ordering  me  about  sometimes 
like  a  dog,  though,  properly  speaking,  the  vessel  her- 
self belonged  to  me — or,  at  any  rate,  more  to  me  than 
to  him.     As  for  A.  G.,  he  didn't  count. 

We  filled  up  and  weighed  anchor  on  August  12th, 
having  on  board  420  blacks — 290  men  and  130  wom- 
en— all  chained,  and  all  held  under  by  us  twenty- 
two  whites,  of  the  which  nineteen  were  women.  The 
weather  turned  sulkv  almost  from  the  start,  and  after 
ten  days  of  drifting,  with  here  and  there  a  fluke  of 
wind,  we  found  ourselves  off  the  Gaboon  Kiver.  From 
this  we  crept  our  way  to  the  island  of  St.  Thomas, 
three  days;  watered  there,  and  fetched  down  to  the 
south-east  trades.  The  niggers  were  dying  fast,  and 
between  the  south-east  and  north-east  trades,  six 
weeks  from  our  starting,  we  lost  between  one  and 
two  score  every  day.  I  will  say  that  all  the  women 
worked  like  horses.  We  reached  Barbadoes  short 
of  our  complement  by  134  negroes  and  one  of 
Klootz's  wives.  This  last  did  not  trouble  him 
much. 

He  kept  mighty  cheerful  all  the  way,  although  the 
speculation  up  to  now  had  turned  out  far  from  cheer- 
ful ;  and  all  the  way  he  kept  singing  scraps  about  the 
Kays  of  Montallone  in  a  way  to  turn  a  healthy  man 
sick.     I  had  patched  up  a  kind  of  friendship  with 

22G 


CAPTAm    DANNY'S    LOG 

A.  G. ;  and  we  allowed  that,  for  all  his  heartiness,  the 
old  man  was  enough  to  madden  a  saint.  The  slaves 
we  landed  fetched  about  £19  on  an  average.  They 
cost  at  starting,  from  £2  to  £3  ;  but  the  ones  that  had 
died  at  sea  knocked  a  hole  in  the  profits. 

At  Barbadoes  Klootz  left  the  womenfolk  in  a  kind 
of  boarding-house,  and  hired  a  pinnace,  twenty  tons, 
to  take  us  across  to  the  main,  pretending  he  wanted 
to  inquire  into  the  market  there.  Klootz  and  I  made 
the  whole  crew,  with  A.  G.,  who  could  not  navigate. 
January  ITth,  late  in  the  afternoon,  we  ran  down 
upon  Mortallone  Island  and  anchored  off  the  Kays, 
north  of  Gable  Point.  Next  morning  we  out  with 
the  boat  and  landed.  Time,  about  three-quarters  of 
an  hour  short  of  low  water. 

The  Kays  are  nothing  but  sand.  At  low  water,  and 
for  an  hour  before  and  after,  you  can  cross  to  Gable 
Point  dryshod.  We  spent  that  day  getting  bearings ; 
dug  a  little,  but  nothing  to  reward  us.  Next  day  we 
got  to  work  early.  Had  been  digging  for  two  hours, 
when  we  turned  up  the  first  body.  It  turned  A,  G. 
poorly  in  the  stomach,  and  he  sat  down  to  watch  us. 
Half  an  hour  later  we  struck  the  first  of  the  chests. 
It  did  not  hold  more  than  five  shillings'  worth,  and 
we  saw  that  somebody  had  been  tliere  before  us. 

The  third  day  we  turned  up  three  more  bodies,  be- 
sides two  chests,  empty  as  before,  and  a  full  one.    We 

227 


POISOX    ISLAND 

stove  it  in,  turned  the  stuff  into  the  boat,  and  made 
our  way  back  to  the  ship. 

The  fourth  day  we  had  scarcely  started  to  dig  be- 
fore Klootz  struck  on  a  second  chest  that  sounded  like 
another  full  one 

•  •  •  •  • 

Here  Miss  Belcher  turned  a  page,  glanced  over- 
leaf, and  came  to  a  full  stop. 

"  For    pity's    sake,    Lydia "    protested    Mr. 

Rogers,  who  sat  leaning  forward,  his  elbows  on  the 
table. 

"  There's  no  more,"  Miss  Belcher  announced. 

"Xomore?" 

"  Xot  a  word,"  She  fumbled  quickly  through  the 
remaining  blank  leaves.  "  l^ot  a  word  more,"  she 
repeated. 

"  Death  cut  short  his  hand,  "  said  Captain  Brans- 
come,  his  voice  breaking  in  upon  a  long  silence. 

"  Cut  short  his  fiddlestick-end !  "  snapped  Miss 
Belcher.  "  The  man  funked  it  at  the  last  moment — 
started  out  promising  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  but  re- 
fused the  fence.  Look  back  at  the  story,  and  you  can 
see  him  losing  heart.  Just  note  that  when  he  comes 
to  A.  G. — that's  the  man  Aaron  Glass,  I  suppose — he 
dares  not  write  down  the  man's  name.  There  has 
been  foul  work,  and  he's  afraid  of  it.  That's  as  plain 
as  the  nose  on  my  face." 

228 


CAPTAI:N^    DANNY'S    LOG 

"  But  what's  to  be  done  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Eogers,  pick- 
ing up  the  manuscript  and  turning  its  pages  irritably. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  a  voice,  "  there  is  surely  but  one 
thing  to  be  done!  We  must  go  and  search  for  our- 
selves." 

We  all  turned  and  stared  at  Plinny. 


229 


CHAPTER   XXI 

IN    WHICH    PLINNY    SURPRISES    EVERY    ONE 

Everybody  stared ;  and  this  had  the  effect  of  mak- 
ing the  dear,  good  creature  blush  to  the  eyes. 

"I  beg  jour  pardon,  ma'am?"  said  Mr.  Jack 
Kogers. 

"  It — it  was  not  for  me  to  say  so,  perhaps."  Her 
voice  quavered  a  little,  and  now  a  pair  of  bright  tears 
trembled  on  her  lashes,  but  she  kept  up  her  chin 
bravely  and  seemed  to  take  courage  as  she  went  on. 
"  I  am  aware,  sir,  that  in  all  matters  of  hazard  and 
enterprise  it  is  for  the  gentlemen  to  take  the  lead.  If 
I  appear  forward — if  I  speak  too  impulsively — my 
affection  for  Harry  must  be  my  excuse." 

Mr.  Eogcrs  stared  at  Captain  Branscome,  and 
from  Captain  Branscome  to  Mr.  Goodfellow,  but 
their  faces  did  not  help  him. 

"  That's  all  very  well,  ma'am.  But  an  expedition 
to  the  other  end  of  the  world — if  that's  what  you  sug- 
gest ? — at  a  moment's  notice — on  what,  as  like  or  not, 
may  turn  out  to  be  a  wild-goose  chase — Lord  bless 

230 


PLIXXY   SURPRISES   EVERY  OA^E 

my  soul !  "  wound  up  Mr.  Rogers  incoherently,  fall- 
ing back  in  his  chair. 

"  I  was  not  proposing  to  start  at  a  moment's  no- 
tice," replied  Plinny  with  extreme  simplicity. 
"  There  will,  of  course,  be  many  details  to  arrange ; 
and  I  do  not  forget  that  we  are  in  the  house  of 
mourning.  The  poor  dear  Major  claims  our  first 
thoughts,  naturally.  Yes,  yes;  there  must  be  a  hun- 
dred and  one  details  to  be  discussed  hereafter — at  a 
fitting  time;  and  it  may  be  many  weeks  before  we 
find  ourselves  actually  launched — if  I  may  use  the 
expression — upon  the  bosom  of  the  deep." 

"  We  ? "  gasped  Mr.  Rogers,  and  again  gazed 
around ;  but  we  others  had  no  attention  to  spare  for 
him.     "We?    Who  are  'we'?" 

"  Why,  all  of  us,  sir,  if  I  might  dare  to  propose 
it;  or  at  least  as  many  as  possible  of  us  whom  the 
hand  of  Providence  has  so  mysteriously  brought 
together.  I  will  confess  that  while  you  were  talk- 
ing just  now,  discussing  this  secret  which,  properly 
speaking,  belongs  to  Harry  alone,  I  doubted  the 
prudence  of  it " 

"And,  by  Jingo,  you  were  right!"  put  in  ]\liss 
Belcher. 

"  With  your  leave,  ma'am,"  Plinny  went  on,  "  I 
have  come  to  think  otherwise.  To  begin  with,  but 
for  Captain  Branscome  the  map  would  never  have 

231 


POISON    ISLAND 

found  its  way  to  the  Major's  room,  where  Harry  dis- 
covered it;  but  might — nay,  probably  would — have 
been  stolen  by  the  wicked  man  who  committed  this 
crime  to  get  possession  of  it.  Again,  but  for  Mr. 
Goodfellow  this  written  narrative  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  lost  to  us,  and  the  map,  if  not  meaningless, 
might  have  seemed  a  clew  not  worth  the  risk  of  fol- 
lowing. In  short,  ma'am  " — Plinny  turned  again  to 
Miss  Belcher — "  I  saw  that  each  of  us  at  this  table 
had  been  wonderfully  brought  here  by  the  hand  of 
Providence.  And  from  this  I  went  on  to  see,  and 
with  wonder  and  thankfulness,  that  here  was  a  secret, 
sought  after  by  many  evil-doers,  which  had  yet  come 
into  the  keeping  of  six  persons,  all  of  them  honest — 
as  I  will  dare  to  say — and  wishful  only  to  do  good. 
Consider,  ma'am,  how  unlikely  this  was,  after  the 
many  bold,  bad  hands  that  have  reached  out  for  it. 
And  will  you  tell  me  that  here  is  accident  only,  and 
not  the  finger  of  Providence  itself?  At  first,  indeed, 
we  suspected  Captain  Branscome  and  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  :  they  were  strangers  to  us,  and,  as  if  that  we 
might  be  tested,  they  came  to  us  under  suspicion." 
Here  Mr.  Goodfellow  put  up  a  hand  and  dubiously 
felt  his  nose,  which  was  yet  swollen  somewhat  from 
his  first  encounter  with  Mr.  Rogers.  "  But  they  have 
proved  their  innocence;  Harry  gives  me  his  word  for 
them ;  and  I  do  not  think,"  said  Plinny,  "  that  you, 

232 


PLINNY  SURPRISES   EVERY  ONE 

ma'am,  can  have  heard  Captain  Branscome's  story 
without  honoring  him." 

Miss  Belcher,  thus  appealed  to,  answered  only 
with  a  grunt,  at  the  same  time  shooting  from  under 
her  shaggy  eyebrows  an  amused  glance  at  the  Cap- 
tain, who  stared  at  the  tablecloth  to  hide  his  confu- 
sion, which,  however,  was  betrayed  by  a  pair  of  very 
red  ears. 

"  All  this,"  pursued  Plinny,  "  I  saw  by  degrees 
and  that  it  was  marvellous;  but  next  came  something 
more  marvellous  still,  for  I  saw  that  if  one  had  gone 
forth  to  choose  sis  persons  to  carry  out  this  business, 
he  could  not  have  chosen  six  better  fitted  for  it." 

Prom  the  effect  of  this  astounding  proposition 
Miss  Lydia  Belcher  was  the  first  to  recover  herself. 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  she  murmured;  "  on  be- 
half of  myself  and  the  company,  as  they  say.  It  is 
true  that  in  all  these  years  I  have  overlooked  my 
qualifications  for  a  buccaneering  job;  but  I'll  think 
them  out  as  you  proceed." 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Plinny,  "  I  wasn't  counting  on 
you,  ma'am,  to  accompany  this  expedition;  nor  on 
Mr.  Rogers.  You  are,  if  I  may  say  so,  great  folks 
as  compared  with  us,  and  have  public  duties — a  stake 
in  the  countrv — e;reat  wealth  to  administer.  Yet  I 
was  thinking  that,  while  we  are  abroad,  there  may 
hapjien  to  be  business  at  home  requiring  attention, 

233 


POISOX    ISl.AND 

and  that  we  may  perhaps  rely  on  you — who  have 
shown  so  much  interest  in  this  sad  affair." 

"  Meaning  that  we — or  I,  at  any  rate — have  been 
dipping  our  fingers  pretty  deep  into  this  pie.  Well, 
and  so  I  have;  and  thank  you  again,  my  dear,  for 
putting  it  so  delicately.  " 

"  But  I  meant  nothing  of  the  sort — indeed  I 
didn't !  "  protested  Plinny. 

"  Tut,  tut !  Of  course  you  didn't ;  but  it's  the 
truth,  nevertheless.  Well,  then,  it  appears  that  Jack 
Eogers  and  I  are  to  be  the  spotsmen*  for  this  little 
expedition,  and  that  you  and  Captain  Branscome, 
and  Mr.  Goodfellow,  and — yes,  and  Harry,  too,  I 
suppose — are  to  be  the  Red  Rovers  and  scour  the 
Spanish  Main.  All  right ;  only  you  don't  look  it,  ex- 
actly." 

"  But  is  not  that  half  the  battle  ? "  urged  the  in- 
domitable Plinny.  "  They'll  be  so  much  the  less 
likely  to  suspect  us." 

"  They — whoever  they  may  be — will  certainly  be 
so  far  deluded." 

"  And  really — if  you  will  consider  it,  ma'am — 

what  I  am  proposing  is  not  ridiculous  at  all.     For 

what  is  chiefly  wanted  for  such  an  adventure  ?     In 

*  Miss  Belcher  was  here  employing  a  smuggling  term.  A 
"spotsman"  is  the  agent  who  arranges  for  a  run  of  goods,  and 
directs  the  operation  from  the  shore,  without  necessarily  taking 
a  part  in  it. 

234 


PLIXXY   SURPRISES   EVERY  OXE 

the  first  place,  a  ship — and  thank  God  I  have  means 
to  hire  one — that  will  be  my  contribution ;  in  the  sec- 
ond place,  a  trustworthy  navigator — and  here,  by  the 
most  unexpected  good  fortune,  we  have  Captain 
Branscome;  in  the  third  place,  a  carpenter,  to  pro- 
vide us  with  shelter  on  the  island  and  be  at  hand  in 
case  of  accident  to  the  vessel — and  here  is  Mr.  Good- 
fellow;  while  as  for  Harry — "  Plinny  hesitated, 
for  the  moment  at  a  loss;  then  her  face  brightened 
suddenly.  "  Harry  can  climb  a  tree,  and  the  instruc- 
tions on  the  back  of  the  map  point  to  this  as  neces- 
sary.    Harry  will  be  invaluable !  " 

I  could  have  wrung  her  hand ;  but  Plinny,  having 
finished  her  justification  of  the  ways  of  Providence, 
had  taken  off  her  spectacles  and  was  breathing  on 
them  and  polishing  them  with  a  small  silk  handker- 
chief which  she  ever  kept  handy  for  that  purpose. 

"  Captain  Branscome,"  said  Miss  Belcher  sharply, 
"  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  give  us  your  opin- 
ion ?  " 

Captain  Branscome  lifted  his  head. 

"  My  mind,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  ma'am,  works  a 
bit  slowly,  and  always  did.  But  there's  no  denying 
that  Miss  Plinlimmon  has  given  the  sense  of  it." 

"  Hey  ? " 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  the  Captain,  tracing  with  his 
finger  an  imaginary  pattern  on  the  tablecloth,  "  her 

235 


POISOX    ISLAND 

courage  carries  her  too  far — as  in  this  talk  about  hir- 
ing a  ship.  A  ship  needs  a  crew;  a  crew  that  could  be 
trusted  on  a  treasure-hunt  is  perhaps  the  most  diffi- 
cult to  find  in  the  whole  world;  and  when  you've 
found  one  to  rely  upon,  your  troubles  are  only  just 
beginning.  The  main  trouble  is  with  the  ship,  and 
that's  what  no  landsman  can  ever  understand.  A 
ship's  the  most  public  thing  under  heaven.  You  think 
of  her,  maybe,  as  something  that  puts  out  over  the 
horizon,  and  is  lost  to  sight  for  months.  But  that 
helps  nothing.  She  must  clear  from  a  port,  and  to  a 
port  sooner  or  later  she  must  come ;  and  in  both  ports 
a  hundred  curious  people  at  least  must  know  all  about 
her  business. 

"  I  don't  say  that  a  ship,  once  out  of  sight,  cannot 
be  made  away  with — though  even  that,  with  a  crew  to 
tell  tales,  has  beaten  some  of  the  cleverest  heads ;  but 
to  take  out  a  ship  and  fill  her  up  with  treasure,  and 
bring  her  home  and  unload  lier  without  any  one's 
knowing  —  that's  a  feat  that  (if  you'll  excuse  me) 
I've  heard  a  hundred  liars  discuss  at  one  time 
and  another;  and  one  has  said  it  can  be  done  in 
this  way,  and  another  in  that,  but  never  a  one  in 
my  hearing  has  found  a  way  that  would  deceive  a 
child." 

"  Yet  you  said,  a  moment  since,  that  Miss  Plinlim- 
mon  had  given  the  sense  of  it  ?  " 

23G 


PLIXXY   SURPEISES   EVERY  OXE 


u 


I  did,  ma'am.     I  am  saying  that  to  fetch  this 

treasure  Avill  be  difficult,  even  if  we  find  it " 

"  You  don't  doubt  its  existence  ?  " 
"  I  do  not,  ma'am.    I  doubt  it  so  little,  ma'am,  that 
I  would  ten  times  sooner  engage  to  find  than  to  fetch 
it.     But  I  don't  even  despair  of  fetching  it,  if  the 
lady  goes  on  being  as  clever  as  she  has  begun." 
"  What  ?  "  exclaimed  Plinny.     "  I  ?    Clever  ?  " 
"  Yes,   indeed,  ma'am,"    Captain  Branscome   an- 
swered, still  in  a  slow,  measured  voice.     "  But,  in- 
deed, too,  I  might  have  been  prepared  for  it  when  you 
started  by  taking  a  line  that  beats  all  my  experience 
of  landsmen;  or  perhaps  in  this  case  I  ought  to  say 
lands/ac?ies." 

"  Why,  what  have  I  done  that  is  wonderful  ?  " 
"  You  took  the  line,  ma'am,  that,  from  here  to 
Honduras,  what  is  it  but  a  passage  ?  A  few  months 
at  the  most — oh,  to  be  sure,  to  a  seaman  that's  no 
more  than  nature — but  to  hear  it  from  any  one  land- 
bred,  and  a  lady  too !  As  a  Christian  man,  I  have 
believed  in  miracles,  but  to-day  I  seem  to  be  moving 
among  them.  And  after  your  saying  tliai,  I  had  no 
call  to  be  surprised  when  you  up  and  suggested  a  way 
that  would  have  taken  a  seaman  twenty  years  to  hit 
upon !  I  am  not  talking  about  a  ship,  ma'am.  That 
part  of  your  plan  (if  you'll  allow  me,  as  a  seaman,  to 
give  an  opinion)  won't  work  at  all.     But  to  get  you 

237 


POTSOX    ISLAXD 

all  to  the  island  is  easy  enough;  and,  once  landed, 
you  can  explore  for  the  treasure  without  a  soul  to  sus- 
pect you.  Make  sure  it  is  there,  and  after  that,  'twill 
go  hard  with  us  if  we  cannot  hit  on  a  scheme  for 
bringing  away  the  stuff." 

''  To  be  sure,"  said  Plinny,  "  yours  is  the  wisest 
plan.  First  let  us  ascertain  that  the  treasure  exists 
(though  for  my  part  I  have  no  doubt  of  it),  and  what 
is  the  amount.  What  further  steps  we  may  take  will 
naturally  depend  on  this." 

"  Jack,"  said  Miss  Belcher  sharply,  as  Mr.  Eogers 
put  up  a  hand  to  his  face  to  hide  a  grin,  "  don't  make 
a  fool  of  yourself,  but  take  a  lesson  in  the  beauty  of 
common-sense.     It  will  help  you  on  the  bench." 

Her  own  face  was  grave  as  a  judge's.  As  for  Cap- 
tain Branscome,  he  sat  gazing  as  though,  like  the  girl 
in  the  fairy  tale,  Plinny  spoke  in  rubies  and  dia- 
monds. 

"  But  I  do  not  see,"  she  confessed,  with  a  small 
puckering  of  the  brows,  "  that  I  have  suggested  any- 
tliing  so  very  clever." 

"  Why,  ma'am,  as  the  lady  puts  it,  you  have  been 
talking  common  sense  —  the  heavenliest  common 
sense — and  once  you've  started  us  upon  common  sense 
there's  no  such  thing  as  a  difficulty.  '  Let  us  go  to 
the  island,'  you  said;  and  with  that  at  a  stroke  you 
get  rid  of  the  worst  danger  we  have  to  fear,  which  is 

238 


PLIXXY   SURPRISES   EVERY  OXE 

suspicion.  For  who's  to  suspect  such  a  company  as 
this  present,  or  any  part  of  it,  of  being  after  treasure  ? 
^  Let  us  make  it  a  pleasure  trip,'  said  you,  or  words 
to  that  effect;  and  what  follows  but  that  the  whole 
journey  is  made  cheap  and  simple  ?  We  book  our 
passages  in  the  Kingston  packet.  Peace  has  been 
declared  with  Erance;  and  what  more  natural  than 
that  a  party  of  English  should  be  travelling  to  see 
the  West  Indies?  Or  what  more  likely  than  that, 
after  what  has  happened,  the  doctor  has  advised  a 
sea  voyage,  to  soothe  your  mind  ?  As  for  me,  I  am 
Harry's  tutor :  every  one  in  Falmouth  knows  it,  and 
thinks  me  lucky  to  get  the  billet.  It  won't  take  five 
minutes  to  explain  Mr.  Goodfellow  here,  just  as 
easily " 

"  And  as  for  me,"  struck  in  Miss  Belcher,  "  I'm 
an  old  madwoman,  with  more  money  than  I  know 
what  to  do  with.  And  as  for  Jack  Rogers,  I'm  elop- 
ing with  him  to  a  coral  island." 

Mr.  Rogers  checked  himself  on  the  edge  of  a 
guffaw. 

"  But,  I  say,  Lydia,  you're  not  serious  about 
this  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  Jack.  I  rather  think  I  am,"  she 
said,  after  a  moment's  pause.  "  I'm  getting  an  old 
woman,  mad  or  not;  and  the  hours  drag  with  me 
sometimes  up  at  the  house.     But" — and  here  she 

239 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

looked  up  with  one  of  those  rare  smiles  that  set  you 
thinking  she  must  have  been  pretty  in  her  time — 
"  there's  this  advantage  in  having  followed  my  own 
will  for  fifty  years:  that  no  one  any  longer  troubles 
to  be  surprised  at  anything  I  may  do.  You're  some- 
tliing  of  an  eccentric  yourself,  Jack.  You  had  better 
join  the  picnic." 

"  I  ought  to  warn  you,  ma'am,"  said  Captain 
Branscome  gravely,  "  that  although  the  West  India 
route  has  been  fairly  well  protected  for  some  months 
now,  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  risk  from  Ameri- 
can privateers." 

"  The  Americans  are  a  chivalrous  nation,  I  have 
always  heard." 

"  Extremely  so,  ma'am ;  nevertheless,  there  is  a 
risk,  in  the  event  of  the  packet  being  attacked.  But 
I  was  about  to  say,"  pursued  Captain  Branscome, 
"  that  our  being  at  war  with  America  may  actually 
help  us  to  get  across  from  Jamaica  to  the  island. 
Quite  a  number  of  old  Colonial  families — loyalists, 
as  we  should  call  them — have  been  driven  from  time 
to  time  to  cross  over  from  the  Main  and  settle  in  the 
West  Indies.  But  of  course  they  have  left  kinsfolk 
behind  them  in  the  States ;  and,  in  spite  of  wars  and 
divisions,  it  is  no  unusual  thing  for  relatives  to  slip 
back  and  forth  and  visit  one  another — secretly,  you 
understand.     I  have  even  heard  of  an  old  lady,  now 

240 


plin:n^y  surpeises  every  oxe 

or  until  lately  residing  in  St.  Kitts,  who  has  made  no 
less  than  eleven  such  voyages  to  the  Delaware — when- 
ever, in  short,  her  daughter  was  expecting  an  ad- 
dition to  her  family." 

"  Good,"  said  Miss  Belcher.  "  I  have  found  some 
one  to  impersonate ;  and  that  settles  it." 

"  I  really  think,  ma'am,"  said  Captain  Brans- 
come,  "  that,  once  in  Jamaica,  we  shall  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  finding,  at  the  western  end  of  the  island, 
just  the  ship  we  require." 


241 


CHAPTER   XXII 

A    STEANGE    MAIf    IN    THE    GARDEN 

I  CANNOT  tliink  why  it  should  be,  but  quite  a 
number  of  persons  acquainted  by  hearsay  with  my 
story  have  confessed  that  nothing  in  it  has  astonished 
them  so  much  as  this  decision  of  ours  to  sail  in  quest 
of  the  treasure.  I  repeat,  Why  ?  That  Plinny — gen- 
tle, romantic  soul — should  have  been  the  first  to  sug- 
gest it ;  that  she  should  have  urged  it  so  hardily ;  this, 
to  be  sure,  surprised  me  for  the  moment,  as  with  more 
excuse  it  may  surprise  those  who  never  had  the  privi- 
lege to  know  her.  Aware  of  this,  I  have  always,  in 
telling  the  tale,  taken  care  that  this  credit  shall  go  to 
her.  But  really,  when  you  think  it  over,  what  else 
could  we  have  done  ?  What  was  her  advice  but  (as 
Miss  Belcher  at  once  called  it)  the  purest  common 
sense  ? 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  she  added.  "  Except  for  the 
sea  voyage,  it  might  be  a  middle-aged  jaunt  in  a  po'- 
shay !  " 

There  remained,  to  be  sure,  the  risk  that  on  our 
passage  to  Jamaica  we  might  be  waylaid  by  an  Ameri- 

242 


A  STEAXGE  MAN  IN  THE  GARDEN 

can  privateer;  but  this  was  a  danger  incident  to  all 
who  sailed  on  board  his  Majesty's  Post  Office  packets 
in  the  year  1814.  That  anything  might  be  feared 
from  the  man  Glass,  none  of  us  (I  believe)  stopped 
to  consider.  We  thought  of  him  only  as  a  foiled 
criminal,  a  fugitive  from  justice,  and  speculated  only 
on  the  chance  that,  with  the  hue-and-cry  out  and  the 
whole  countryside  placarded,  the  Plymouth  runners 
would  lay  him  by  the  heels. 

Undoubtedly  he  had  made  for  Plymouth.  From 
Torpoint  came  news  that  a  man  answering  to  his  de- 
scription had  crossed  the  ferry  there  on  the  morning 
after  the  murder.  The  regular  ferryman  there  had 
stepped  into  a  public-house  for  his  regular  morn- 
ing glass  of  rum-and-water ;  and  in  his  absence  the 
small  bov  who  acted  as  substitute  had  ferried  a  stran- 
ger  across.  The  stranger,  who  appeared  to  be  in  a 
sweating  hurry,  had  rewarded  the  boy  with  half  a 
crown ;  and  the  boy,  rowing  back  to  the  Torpoint  side 
and  finding  his  master  still  in  the  tavern,  had  keyit 
his  own  counsel  and  the  money.  Now  the  hue-and- 
cry  had  frightened  him  into  confessing;  and  his  de- 
scription left  no  doubt  that  the  impatient  passenger 
was  Aaron  Glass. 

Such  a  man  had  been  observed,  about  two  hours 
later,  mingling  in  a  fish  auction  on  the  Barbican ;  and 
had  actually  bidden  for  a  boatload  of  mackerel,  but 

243 


POTSOX    ISLAND 

without  purchasing.  From  the  auction  he  had 
walked  away  in  the  direction  of  Southside  Street. 

And  from  that  point  all  trace  of  him  was  lost.  Mr. 
Rogers,  who  had  posted  straight  to  Plymouth  from 
the  inquest,  spent  a  couple  of  days  in  pushing  in- 
quiries here,  there,  and  everywhere.  But  not  even  the 
promise  of  a  clew  rewarded  him.  Two  foreign-going 
vessels  and  four  coasters  had  sailed  from  the  port  on 
the  morning  after  the  murder.  The  coasters  were 
duly  met,  boarded,  and  searched  at  their  ports  of  ar- 
rival— two  at  Liverpool,  one  at  Milford,  and  one  at 
Gravesend — but  without  result.  If,  as  seemed 
likely,  the  man  had  contrived  to  ship  himself  on  board 
the  "  Hussar "  brig,  bound  for  Barcelona,  or  the 
"  Mary  Harvey,"  a  full-rigged  ship,  for  Eio,  the 
chances  of  bringing  him  to  justice  might  be  consid- 
ered nil — or  almost  nil;  for  Mr.  Rogers  had  some 
hope  of  the  "  Hussar  "  being  overtaken  and  spoken 
by  a  frigate  which  happened  to  be  starting,  two  days 
later,  to  join  our  fleet  in  the  Mediterranean. 

During  the  week  or  two  that  followed  my  father's 
funeral  little  was  said  of  our  expedition,  although  I 
understood  from  Plinny  that  the  start  would  only  be 
delayed  until  she  and  the  lawyers  had  proved  the  will 
and  put  his  estate  in  order  for  me.  My  father's  pen- 
sion had,  of  course,  perished  with  him ;  but  he  left 
me  a  small  sum  in  the  Funds,  bearing  interest  be- 

244 


A  STRAIS^GE  MAN  IN  THE  GARDEN 

tween  fifty  £nd  sixty  pounds  per  annum,  together 
with  the  freehold  of  Minden  Cottage.  Unfortunately- 
he  had  appointed  no  trustees,  and  I  was  a  minor ;  and 
even  more  unfortunately  his  will  directed  that  Min- 
den Cottage  should  be  sold,  "  within  a  reasonably 
brief  time  "  after  his  death,  and  that  the  sum  accru- 
ing should  be  invested  in  Government  stock  for  my 
benefit ;  and  with  this  little  tangle  to  work  upon,  our 
lawyers — Messrs.  Harding  and  Whiteway,  of  Plym- 
outh— and  the  Court  of  Chancery  soon  involved  the 
small  estate  in  complications  which  (as  Miss  Belcher 
put  it)  were  the  more  annoying  because  the  fools  at 
both  ends  were  honest  men  and  trying  to  do  the  best 
for  me. 

Of  this  business  I  understood  nothing  at  the  time, 
save  that  it  caused  delay ;  and  I  mention  it  here  only 
to  explain  the  delay  and  because  (as  will  be  seen)  the 
sale  of  Minden  Cottage,  when  at  length  the  Lord 
Chancellor  was  good  enough  to  authorize  it,  had  a 
very  important  bearing  on  the  rest  of  my  story. 

Meanwhile,  Captain  Branscome  had,  of  course, 
returned  to  Falmouth,  and  would  book  our  passages 
on  the  Kingston  packet  as  soon  as  my  affairs  allowed. 
We  received  letters  from  him  from  time  to  time,  and 
on  Saturdays  and  Mondays  a  passing  call  from  Mr. 
Goodfellow,  on  his  way  to  and  from  Plymouth.  He 
had  stipulated  that,  before  sailing  with  us,  he  should 

245 


POISOX    ISLAND 

take  his  inamorata  into  his  confidence;  and  this  was 
conceded  after  Miss  Belcher  had  used  the  opportunity 
of  a  day's  marketing  in  Plymouth  to  call  at  the  dairy- 
shop  in  Treville  Street  and  make  the  lady's  acquaint- 
ance. 

"  A  very  sensible  young  person,"  she  reported ; 
"  and  of  the  two  I'd  sooner  trust  her  than  Goodfellow 
to  keep  a  still  tongue.  There's  no  danger  in  that 
quarter !  " 

J^or  was  there,  as  it  proved.  Ifr.  Goodfellow  told 
us  that  he  could  hardly  contain  himself  whenever  he 
thought  of  his  prospects ;  "  for,"  said  he,  "  I  was 
born  a  parish  apprentice — in  place  of  which  here  I 
be  at  the  age  of  twenty  with  two  fortunes  waiting  for 
me,  one  at  each  end  of  the  world." 

At  length,  in  the  last  week  of  July,  Messrs.  Hard- 
ing and  Whiteway  announced  that  all  formalities 
were  completed ;  and  three  days  later  a  bill  appeared 
on  the  whitewashed  front  of  Minden  Cottage  an- 
nouncing that  this  desirable  freehold  residence  witli 
two  and  a  half  acres  of  land  would  be  sold  by  public 
auction  on  August  6th,  at  1.30  o'clock  p.m.,  in  the 
Royal  Hotel,  Plymouth.  Any  particulars  not  men- 
tioned in  the  bills  would  be  readily  furnished  on  ap- 
plication at  the  office  of  the  vendor's  solicitors;  and. 
parties  wishing  to  inspect  the  premises  might  obtain 
the  keys  from  Miss  Belcher's  lodgekeeper,  Mr.  Pol- 

246 


A  STRANGE  MAN  IN  THE  GAEDEN 

glaze — that  is  to  saj,  from  the  nearest  dwelling-house 
down  the  road. 

Plinnj,  with  the  help  of  half  a  dozen  of  Miss  Bel- 
cher's men  and  a  couple  of  wagons,  had  employed 
these  three  days  in  removing  our  furniture  to  the 
great  cricket-pavilion  above  the  hill — an  excellent 
storehouse — where,  for  the  time,  it  would  remain  in 
charge  of  Mr.  Saunders,  the  head  keeper.  We  our- 
selves removed  to  the  shelter  of  Miss  Belcher's  lordly 
roof,  as  her  guests;  and  Ann,  the  cook,  to  a  cottage 
on  the  home  farm,  where  that  lady — who  usually  su- 
perintended her  own  dairy — had  offered  her  the  post 
of  locum  tenens  until  our  return  from  foreign  travel. 
By  the  morning  when  the  bill-poster  came  and  affixed 
the  notice  of  sale,  Minden  Cottage  stood  dismantled,  a 
melancholy  shell,  inhabited  only  by  memories  for  us, 
and  for  our  country  neighbors  (I  should  add)  by 
ghostly  terrors. 

This  was  one  of  the  many  grounds  on  which  we 
agreed  that  the  Lord  Chancellor  had  acted  foolishly 
in  insisting  upon  a  public  auction.  His  lordship,  to 
be  sure,  could  not  be  expected  to  know  that  recent 
events  had  utterly  depreciated  the  selling  value  of 
Minden  Cottage  over  the  whole  of  south-east  Corn- 
wall; that  the  homeward  trudging  laborer  would 
breathe  a  prayer  as  he  neared  it  along  the  highroad 
in  the  dark,  and  would  shut  his  eyes  and  run  by  it, 

247 


POISON    ISLAND 

nor  draw  breath  until  he  reached  the  lodge,  down 
the  road;  that  quite  a  number  of  Christian  folk  who 
had  been  used  to  envy  my  father  the  snuggest  little 
retreat  within  twenty  miles  would  now  have  refused 
a  hundred  pounds  to  spend  one  night  in  it.  So  it  was, 
however ;  and  the  chance  of  an  "  out  "-bidder  might 
be  passed  over  as  negligible.  On  the  other  hand,  Miss 
Belcher  had  offered  ]\Iessrs.  Harding  and  Whiteway 
a  handsome  and  more  than  sufficient  price  for  the 
property.  She  wanted  it  to  round  off  her  estate,  out 
of  which,  at  present,  it  cut  a  small  cantle  and  at  an 
awkward  corner.  Moreover,  if  Miss  Belcher  had  not 
come  forward,  Plinny  was  prepared  to  purchase. 
That  Miss  Belcher  would  acquire  the  place  no  one 
doubted.    Still,  a  public  sale  it  had  to  be. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  5th,  she  left  us  for 
Plymouth,  to  make  arrangements  for  the  bidding.  I 
did  not  see  her  depart,  having  been  occupied  since  five 
in  the  morning  in  a  glorious  otter-liunt,  for  which 
Mr.  Rogers,  the  night  before,  had  brought  over  his 
hounds.  The  heat  of  the  day  found  us  far  up-stream, 
and  a  good  ten  miles  from  home ;  and  by  the  time  Mr. 
Rogers  had  returned  his  pack  to  Miss  Belcher's  hos- 
pitable kennels  the  sun  was  low  in  the  west.  I  know 
nothing  that  will  make  a  man  more  honestly  dirty 
than  a  long  otter-hunt,  followed  by  a  perspiring 
tramp  along  a  dusty  road.    From  feet  to  waist  I  was 

248 


A  STEANGE  MAN  IN  THE  GAKDEX 

a  cake  of  dried  mud  overlaid  with  dust;  I  had  dust 
in  my  hair,  in  the  creases  of  my  clothes,  in  the  pores 
of  my  skin.  I  needed  ablution  far  beyond  the  re- 
sources of  Miss  Belcher's  establishment,  which,  to 
tell  the  truth,  left  a  good  deal  to  seek  in  the  apparatus 
of  personal  cleanliness;  and,  snatching  up  the  clean 
shirt  and  suit  of  clothes,  which  the  ever-provident 
Plinny  had  laid  out  on  the  bed  for  me,  I  ran  down 
across  the  park  to  the  stream  under  the  plantation. 

Little  rain  had  fallen  for  a  month  past,  and,  arriv- 
ing at  the  pool  on  which  I  had  counted  for  a  bath,  I 
found  it  almost  dry.  While  I  stood  there,  in  two 
minds  whether  to  return  or  to  strip  and  make  the  best 
of  it,  I  bethought  me  that — although  I  had  never 
bathed  there  in  my  life — the  stream  would  be  better 
worth  trying  where  it  ran  through  the  now  deserted 
garden  of  Minden  Cottage,  below  the  summer-house. 
The  bottom  might  be  muddy,  but  the  dam  which  my 
father  had  built  there  secured  a  sufficiency  of  water 
in  the  hottest  months.  I  picked  up  my  clothes  again, 
and,  following  the  stream  up  to  the  little  door  in  the 
garden  wall,  pushed  open  the  rusty  latch  and  entered 
the  garden. 

The  hour,  as  I  have  said,  was  drawing  on  to  dusk ; 
and,  as  perhaps  I  ought  to  say,  I  am  by  nature  not 
inclined  to  nervousness  (or  I  had  not  ventured  so 
near  that  particular  spot) ;  but  scared  enough  I  was, 

249 


POISON    ISLAiYD 

as  I  stepped  onto  the  little  foot-bridge,  to  see  a  man 
standing  by  the  doorway  of  the  summer-house. 

For  an  instant  a  terror  seized  me  that  it  might  be  a 
ghost,  or,  worse,  the  man  himself,  Aaron  Glass.  But 
a  second  glance,  as  I  halted  on  a  hair-trigger — so  to 
speak — to  turn  and  run  for  my  life,  assured  me  that 
the  man  was  a  stranger. 

lie  wore  a  suit  of  black,  and  a  soft  hat  of  Panama 
straw  with  a  broad  brim,  and  held  in  his  hand  a  some- 
thing strange  to  me,  and,  indeed,  as  yet  almost  un- 
known in  England — an  umbrella.  It  had  a  dusky 
white  covering,  and  he  held  it  by  the  middle,  as 
though  he  had  been  engaged  in  taking  measurements 
with  it  when  my  entrance  surprised  him. 

It  appeared  to  me  for  a  moment  that  I  had  not 
only  surprised  him  but  frightened  him,  for  the  face 
he  turned  to  me  wore  a  yellowish  pallor  like  that  of 
old  ivory.  Yet  when  he  drew  himself  up  and  spoke, 
I  seemed  to  know  in  an  instant  that  this  was  his 
natural  color.  The  face  itself  was  large  and  fleshy, 
with  bold,  commanding  features;  a  face,  on  second 
thoughts,  impossible  to  connect  Avith  terror. 

"  Hallo,  little  boy !  What  are  you  doing  in  this 
garden  ?  " 

I  answered  him,  stammering,  that  I  was  come  to 
bathe ;  and  while  I  answered  I  was  still  in  two  minds 
about  running,  for  his  voice,  appearance,  bearing,  all 

250 


A  STEANGE  MA^  IN   THE   GAKDEN 

alike  puzzled  me.  He  spoke  genially,  with  some- 
thing foreign  in  his  accent.  I  could  not  determine 
his  age  at  all.  At  first  glance  he  seemed  to  he  quite 
an  old  man,  and  not  only  old  hut  weary;  yet  he 
walked  without  a  stoop,  and  as  he  came  slowly  across 
the  turf  to  the  hridge-end  I  saw  that  his  hair  was 
black  and  glossy,  and  his  large  face  unwrinkled  as  a 
child's. 

"  N'ot  after  the  plums,  eh  ?  " 

"  1^0,  sir ;  and  besides,"  said  I,  picking  up  my 
courage,  "  there's  no  harm  if  I  am.  The  garden 
belongs  to  me." 

"  So  ?  "  He  regarded  me  for  some  seconds,  his 
hands  clasping  the  umbrella  behind  his  back.  The 
sight  of  the  bundle  of  black  clothes  I  carried  appar- 
ently satisfied  him.  "  Then  you  have  right  to  ask 
what  brings  me  here.  I  answer.  Curiosity.  AYhat 
became  of  the  man  who  did  it  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a 
glance  over  his  shoulder  towards  the  summer-house. 

"  Nobody  knows,  sir,"  I  answered,  as  soon  as  I 
had  recovered  myself  from  the  thrust  of  this  point- 
blank  question. 

"  Disappeared,  hey  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  fancy  I  could  put  my  hand  on  him,"  he  said 
very  coolly,  after  a  pause.  And  I  began  to  think  I 
had  to  deal  with  a  madman. 

251 


POISOTsT    ISLAiSTD 

"  Suppose,  now,  that  I  do  catch  him,"  he  went  on 
after  a  pause.  "  What  shall  I  do  with  him  ?  In  my 
country — for  I  live  a  great  way  off — we  either  choke 
a  murderer  or  cut  off  his  head  with  a  knife." 

I  told  him — since  he  waited  for  me  to  say  some- 
thing— how  in  England  we  disposed  of  our  worst 
criminals. 

"  Xo,  you  don't,"  said  he  quietly.  "  You  let  some 
of  the  worst  go,  and  the  very  worst  (as  you  believe) 
you  banish  to  an  island,  treating  them  as  the  old 
Romans  treated  theirs.  Now,  I'm  a  traveller;  and 
where  do  you  suppose  I  spent  this  day  month  ?  " 

I  could  not  give  a  guess. 

"  Why,  on  the  island  of  Elba.  I'm  curious,  you 
know,  especially  in  the  matter  of  criminals ;  so  I 
came — oh,  a  tremendous  way  ! — to  have  a  look  at 
j^apoleon  Bonaparte,  there.  'Row  I'll  tell  you 
another  thing:  he's  going  to  escape  in  a  month  or 
two,  when  his  plans  are  ready.  I  had  that  from  his 
own  lips;  and,  what's  more,  I  heard  it  again  in 
Paris  a  week  later.  From  Paris  I  came  aci'oss  to 
London,  and  from  London  down  to  Plymouth,  and 
from  Plymouth  I  was  to  have  travelled  straight  to 
Ealmouth,  to  take  my  passage  home,  when  I  heard 
of  what  had  happened  here,  and  that  the  house  was 
for  sale.  So  I  stopped  to  have  a  look  at  it,  for  I  am 
curious,  I  tell  you." 

252 


A  STEANGE  MAN  IN  THE  GARDEN 

He  went  on  to  prove  his  curiosity  by  asking  me  a 
score  of  questions  about  myself:  my  age,  my  choice 
of  a  profession,  my  relatives  (I  told  him  I  had 
none),  and  my  schooling.  He  drew  me  (I  cannot  re- 
member how)  into  a  description  of  Plinny,  and 
agreed  with  me  that  she  must  be  a  woman  in  a  thou- 
sand ;  asked  where  she  lived  at  present,  and  regretted 
— pulling  out  his  watch — that  he  had  not  time  to 
make  her  acquaintance.  Oddly  enough,  I  felt  when 
he  said  it  that  this  was  no  idle  speech,  but  that  only 
time  prevented  him  from  walking  up  the  hill  and 
paying  his  respects.  I  felt  also,  the  longer  we  talked, 
I  will  not  say  a  fear  of  him,  for  his  manner  was 
too  urbane  to  permit  it,  but  an  increasing  respect. 
Crazed  he  might  be,  as  his  questions  were  discon- 
nected, and  now  and  again  nearly  bewildering,  as 
when  he  asked  if  my  father  had  travelled  much 
abroad,  and  again  if  I  really  preferred  to  remain 
idle  at  home  instead  of  returning  to  finish  my  educa- 
tion with  Mr.  Stimcoe;  but  his  manner  of  asking 
compelled  an  answer.  I  could  not  tell  myself  if 
I  liked  or  disliked  the  man,  he  differed  so  entirely 
from  any  one  I  had  ever  seen  in  my  life.  His  ques- 
tions were  intimate  ones,  yet  inoffensive.  I  answered 
them  all,  with  a  sense  of  talking  to  some  one  either 
immensely  old  or  divided  from  me  by  hundreds  of 
miles. 

253 


POISON    ISLAi!TD 

In  the  midst  of  our  talk,  and  while  he  was  press- 
ing me  with  questions  about  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stim- 
coe,  he  suddenly  lifted  his  head,  and  stood  lis- 
tening. 

"  Hallo !  "  said  he.    "  Here's  the  coach." 

I  had  heard  nothing,  though  my  ears  are  pretty 
sharp.  But  sure  enough,  though  not  until  a  couple 
of  minutes  had  passed,  the  wheels  of  the  Highflyer, 
our  evening  coach  to  Plymouth,  sounded  far  along 
the  road. 

The  stranger  pulled  out  a  bunch  of  keys  from  his 
pocket. 

"  I  will  ask  you  as  a  favor,"  said  he,  "  to  return 
these  to  the  lodge-keeper,  from  whom  I  borrowed 
them.     Will  you  be  so  kind  ?  " 

I  said  that  I  would  do  so  with  pleasure. 

"  I  have  been  over  the  house.  It  appears — the 
lodge-keeper  tells  me — that  I  have  been  almost  the 
only  visitor  to  inspect  it.  That's  queer,  for  I  should 
have  thought  that  to  an  amateur  in  crime — with  a 
taste  for  discovery  —  it  offered  great  possibilities. 
But  never  mind,  child,"  said  this  strange  man,  and 
shook  hands.  "  I  have  great  hopes  of  finding  the 
scoundrel,  and  of  dealing  with  him.  Eh  ?  '  How  ?  * 
Well,  if  w^e  get  him  upon  an  island,  he  shan't  get 
away,  like  Napoleon." 

With  these  words,  which  I  did  not  understand  in 

254 


A  STRAITGE  MAN  IInT   THE  GAEDEX 

the  least,  he  turned  and  left  me,  passing  out  into  the 
lane  by  the  side-gate.  A  minute  later  I  heard  the 
coach  pull  up,  and  yet  a  minute  later  roll  on  again, 
conveying  him  toward  Plymouth.  I  stole  a  glance  at 
tlie  water,  at  the  summer-house  and  the  tree  behind 
it.  Somehow  in  the  twilight  they  all  wore  an  un- 
canny look.  On  my  way  home — for  I  decided  to 
return  and  take  my  bath  in  the  house,  after  all — my 
mind  kept  running  on  a  story  of  Ann  the  cook's, 
about  a  man  (a  relative  of  hers,  she  said)  who  had 
once  seen  the  devil.  And  yet  the  stranger  had  tipped 
me  a  guinea  at  parting,  nor  was  it  (except  metaphori- 
cally) red  hot  in  my  pocket. 

•  •  •  •  • 

!Next  evening  Miss  Belcher  rode  back  to  us  from 
Plymouth  with  the  announcement  that  Minden  Cot- 
tage was  hers.  She  had  not  attended  the  sale  in  per- 
son, but  Maddicombe,  her  lavryer,  had  started  the 
bidding  (under  her  instruction)  at  precisely  the  sum 
which  she  had  privately  offered  Messrs.  Harding  and 
Whiteway.  There  was  no  competition.  In  fact, 
Maddicombe  reported  that,  apart  from  the  auction- 
eers and  himself,  but  six  persons  attended  the  sale. 
Of  these,  five  were  local  acquaintances  of  his  whom 
he  knew  to  be  attracted  only  by  curiosity.  Of  the 
sixth,  a  stranger,  he  had  been  afraid  at  first ;  but  the 
man  appeared  to  be  a  visitor,  who  had  wandered  into 

255 


POISON    ISLAND 

the  auction-room  bj  mistake.  At  any  rate,  he  had 
made  no  bid. 

"  What  sort  of  man  ?  "  I  asked. 

Maddicombe  had  no  very  precise  recollection,  or 
couldn't  put  it  into  words.  A  tall  man,  he  said,  and 
dressed  in  black;  a  noticeable  man — that  was  as  far 
as  he  could  get — and,  he  believed,  a  foreigner. 


256 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

HOW    WE    SAILED    TO    THE    ISLAND 

The  business  of  the  sale  concluded,  we  had  noth- 
ing to  detain  us,  and  an  order  was  at  once  sent  to 
Captain  Branscome  to  book  our  passages  in  the  next 
packet  for  the  West  Indies.  Meanwhile  we  held  long 
discussions  on  details  of  outfit,  for  since  our  impedi- 
menta included  two  moderately  heavy  chests — the 
one  of  guns  and  ammunition,  the  other  of  spades, 
picks,  hatchets,  and  other  tools — and  since  on  reach- 
ing Jamaica  we  must  take  a  considerable  journey  on 
muleback,  it  was  important  to  cut  our  personal  lug- 
gage down  to  the  barest  necessities.  We  did  not  for- 
get a  medicine-chest. 

On  the  28th  of  August  we  received  word  from 
Captain  Branscome  that  he  had  taken  berths  for  us 
on  the  "  Townshend  "  packet,  commanded  by  an  old 
friend  of  his,  a  Captain  Harrison.  She  was  due  to 
sail  on  tlie  1st.  Accordingly,  on  August  30th  we 
travelled  do^vn  by  Royal  Mail  to  Falmouth,  Mr.  Rog- 

257 


POISON    ISLAXD 

ers  following  that  same  noon  by  the  Highflyer ;  spent 
a  busy  day  in  making  some  last  purchases,  and  a 
sleepless  night  in  the  noisiest  of  hotels ;  and  went  on 
board  soon  after  breakfast,  to  be  welcomed  there  by 
Mr.  Goodfellow,  who  had  got  OA^er  his  parting  three 
days  before,  at  Plymouth,  and  professed  himself  to 
be  in  the  very  j oiliest  of  spirits.  At  the  head  of  the 
after-companion  Captain  Branscome  met  us  and  con- 
ducted us  below,  to  introduce  us  to  our  quarters  and 
be  complimented  on  the  thought  and  care  he  had  be- 
stowed in  choosing  them  and  fitting  them  up — for 
tlie  ladies'  comfort  especially.  He  himself  lodged 
forward,  in  a  small  double  cabin  which  he  shared 
with  Mr.  Goodfellow. 

I  will  spare  the  reader  a  description  of  our  de- 
parture and  of  the  passage  to  Jamaica,  not  only  be- 
cause they  were  quite  uneventful  (we  did  not  even 
sight  a  privateer),  but  because  they  have  been  cele- 
brated in  verse  by  Plinny,  in  a  descriptive  poem  of 
five  cantos  and  some  four  thousand  lines,  entitled 
"  The  Voyage :  with  an  Englishwoman's  Keflections 
on  her  Favorite  Element,"  a  few  extracts  from  which 
I  am  permitted  to  quote : 

We  sailed  for  Kingston  in  the  "Townshend"  packet. 

The  day  auspicious  was,  and  calm  the  heavens: 
Not  so  the  scene  on  board — oh,  what  a  racket ! 

And  everything  on  deck  apparently  at  sixes  and  sevens. 

258 


HOW  WE    SAILED    TO   THE   ISLAND 

Mail-bags  and  passengers  mixed  up  in  every  direction, 
The  latter  engaged  with  their  relatives  in  fond  farewells; 

On  the  one  hand  the  faltering  accents  of  affection, 
On  the  other  the  unpolisht  seamen  emitting  yells, 

With  criticisms  of  a  Custom  House  official 

Whose  action  for  some  reason  they  resented  as  prejudicial. 

At  length  the  last  farewell  is  said. 

The  anchor  tripped,  the  gangway  clear'd ; 
'Twas  five  p.m.  ere  past  Pendennis  Head 

Forth  to  th'  unfathomable  deep  we  steer'd. 
The  bo'sun  piped  (he  wore  a  manly  beard) ; 

And  while  th'  attentive  crew  the  braces  trimm'd 
(Alluding  to  the  ship's),  and  while  from  observation 

The  coast  receded,  we  with  eyes  bedimm'd 
Indulged  in  feelings  natural  to  the  situation. 
Albion!     My  Albion!    So  called  from  the  hue 

Thy  cliffs  wear  by  the  Straits  of  Dover — 
Though  darker  in  this  neighborhood — still  adieu! 

Albion,  adieu!     I  feel  myself  a  rover. 
Thy  sons  instinctively  take  to  the  water. 
And  so  will  I,  albeit  but  a  daughter. 

A  page  later,  in  more  tripping  metre  (which  re- 
flects her  gayety  of  spirits),  she  describes  the  ship : 

The  "Townshend"  packet  is  a  gallant  brig 

Of  one  hundred  and  eighty  tons; 
'Tis  the  Postmaster-General's  favorite  rig, 
And  she  carries  six  useful  guns. 
As  she  sails,  as  she  sails 
With  his  Majesty's  mails, 
H\irrah  for  her  long  six-pounders  I 
They  relieve  our  fear 
Of  a  privateer. 
But  what  shall  we  do  if  she  founders? 

259 


POTSOX    ISLAND 

I  prefer  not  to  think  of  any  such  contingency. 

She  has  excellent  sailing  qualities, 
And  her  captain  appears  to  rule  with  stringency 

And  to  be  averse  from  minor  frivolities. 
With  the  late  Admiral  Nelson  he  may  not  provoke  comj)arison 
But  one  and  all  place  confidence  in  Captain  Harrison. 


While  Plinnj  cultivated  the  Muse — and  with  the 
more  zest  as,  to  her  pride  and  delight,  she  found  her- 
self immune  from  sea-sickness — I  kept  up,  through 
the  long  mornings,  the  pretence  of  studying  mathe- 
matics with  Captain  Branscome,  and  regularly  at 
noon  received  a  lesson  in  taking  the  ship's  bearings. 
Our  fellow-voyagers  were  mostly  merchants  and 
agents  bound  for  Jamaica,  the  trade  of  which  had 
revived  since  the  restoration  of  peace ;  and  among 
them  we  passed  for  a  well-to-do  family  travelling 
partly  for  pleasure  to  visit  the  island,  but  partly  also 
with  an  idea  of  buying  a  plantation  and  settling 
there — which  explained  the  presence  of  Mr.  Good- 
fellow. 

Our  captain  justified  the  confidence  so  poetically 
expressed  above.  He  sailed  his  ship  along  steadily, 
taking  no  risks,  and  after  a  pleasant  passage  of 
thirty-six  days  brought  her  to  anchor  in  Carlisle  Bay, 
Barbadoes,  where  we  were  due  to  deliver  some  bags 
of  mails.  I  have  said  that  the  trip  was  uneventful : 
it  was  even  without  incident  save  for  some  fooleries 

260 


HOW   WE    SAILED    TO    THE   ISLAND 

on  reaching  the  Line,  and  such  trifling  distractions 
as  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  shoot  an  albatross,  and 
the  sighting  of  some  fljing-fish  and  sundry  long- 
tailed  birds  which  the  sailors  called  boatswains, 
But,  as  Plinny  wrote : 

Life  at  sea  has  a  natural  monotony 

Of  which  'twere  irrational  to  complain: 
You  carmot,  for  instance,  study  botany 

As  in  an  English  country  lane. 
But  the  mind  is  superior  to  distance 

With  its  own  reminiscences  stored, 
Not  to  mention  the  spiritual  assistance 

We  derived  from  a  clergyman  on  board. 

(He  was  a  sallow  young  man  of  delicate  constitu- 
tion, and,  partly  for  his  health's  sake,  had  accepted 
the  pastorate  of  a  Genevan  church  in  Kingston.) 

From  Barbadoes  we  beat  up  for  Jamaica,  and  an- 
chored in  Kingston  Harbor  just  forty-five  days  from 
home.  The  next  morning  we  said  farewell  to  the 
ship,  and  were  rowed  ashore  to  a  good  hotel,  where 
we  spent  a  lazy  week  in  small  excursions,  while  Cap- 
tain Branscome  busied  himself  in  hiring  a  mule-train 
and  holding  consultations  with  a  firm  of  merchants, 
Messrs.  Cox  and  Roebuck,  to  whom  Miss  Belcher 
came  recommended  with  a  letter  of  credit.  These 
gentlemen,  understanding  that  we  desired  to  cross 
over  to  the  Main  to  visit  some  relations  of  Miss 

261 


POISON    ISLAND 

Belcher,  resident  in  Virginia  (for  that  was  our  pre- 
tence), opined  that  the  matter  was  not  difficult  of 
management,  but  that  we  must  needs  travel  to  the  ex- 
treme west  of  the  island  if  we  would  hire  a  vessel  for 
the  purpose,  and  they  mentioned  an  agent  of  theirs 
at  Savannah-la-Mar — Jacob  Paz  by  name — as  the 
likeliest  man  for  our  purpose. 

Armed  with  a  letter  of  introduction  to  this  man, 
in  the  early  morning  of  October  22d  we  started  on 
muleback,  and,  travelling  without  haste  through  the 
exquisite  scenery  of  Jamaica  (the  main  roads  of 
Avhich  put  ours  of  Cornwall  to  shame),  arrived  at 
Savannah-la-Mar  on  the  27th,  a  great  part  of  the 
way  having  been  occupied  by  Miss  Belcher  (who 
hated  the  sight  of  a  negro)  in  rebuking  Plinny's  sen- 
timental objections  to  slavery,  and  by  Mr.  Rogers  in 
bagging  a  collection  of  humming-birds. 

It  took  (I  believe)  some  time  at  Savannah-la-Mar 
to  convince  Mr.  Paz,  a  subtle  half-breed,  that  we 
were  actually  fools  enough  to  wish  to  purchase  one 
of  his  vessels,  and  mad  enough  to  propose  work- 
ing her  alone.  He  had  three  boats  idle,  including 
a  pretty  little  fore-and-aft  schooner  of  thirty  tons, 
the  "  Espriella,"  which  Captain  Branscome  had  no 
sooner  set  eyes  upon  than  he  decided  her  to  be  the 
very  thing  for  our  purpose.  She  was  fitted  with  a 
large  ladies'  cabin  aft  of  the  companion,  a  saloon, 

262 


HOW   WE    SAILED    TO    THE   ISLAiSTD 

and  a  small  single-berth  cabin  between  it  and  the 
fo'c's'le,  which  would  house  three  men  comfortably. 
We  ended  bv  purchasing  her  for  £370 ;  and  into  the 
fo'c's'le  I  Avent  with  Mr.  Goodfellow  and  Mr.  Jack 
Rogers,  who  insisted  on  resigning  the  spare  cabin 
to  Captain  Branscome,  henceforward,  or  until  we 
should  reach  the  island,  by  consent  the  leader  of  the 
expedition. 

So  on  October  30th,  at  six  in  the  morning,  having 
been  commended  to  God  by  Mr.  Paz,  we  worked  out 
of  Savannah-la-Mar,  and  having  gained  an  offing 
with  a  light  breeze,  hoisted  all  her  bits  of  canvas, 
even  to  a  light  jib-topsail  we  found  on  board  — 
chiefly,  I  think,  to  impress  her  late  owner,  whom  we 
could  descry  on  the  shore,  watching  us.  He  had 
steadily  refused  to  believe  us  capable  of  handling  a 
boat,  whereas  of  our  party  Plinny  and  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  were  the  onlv  landlubbers.  Miss  Belcher  could 
take  the  helm  with  the  best  of  us ;  and  indeed  it  was 
reported  of  her  that  she  had  on  more  than  one  occa- 
sion played  helmswoman  to  a  run  of  goods  upon  her 
own  Cornish  estate.  Mr.  Jack  Rogers  had  once 
owned  a  yacht  and  suffered  from  tedium ;  now,  as  a 
foremast  hand,  he  was  enjoying  himself  amazingly. 

But  the  pride  above  all  prides  was  Captain  Brans- 
come's.  After  many  years  he  trod  a  deck  again,  com- 
mander of  his  own  ship ;  and  the  bearing  of  the  man 

263 


POISON    ISLAND 

Avas  that  of  a  prince  after  long  exile  restored  to  his 
kingdom.  Courteous  as  ever  to  the  ladies,  to  the  rest 
of  us  he  suddenly  became  a  master,  noble  but  severe, 
unwearied  in  explaining  the  least  minutiae  of  sea- 
manship, inexorable  in  seeing  that  his  smallest  in- 
struction was  obeyed.  Mr.  Rogers  at  the  end  of  the 
first  day  confided  to  me  that  he  had  much  to  do  to 
refrain  from  touching  his  forelock  whenever  he 
heard  the  skipper's  voice. 

I  shall  not  be  believed  if  I  say  that  in  all  the 
five  days  of  our  voyage  Captain  Branscome  never 
snatched  a  wink  of  sleep.  Doubtless  he  did  sleep, 
betw^een  whiles,  but  doubtless  also  no  one  could  guess 
when  he  did  it. 

It  was  daybreak  or  thereabouts  on  the  morning  of 
November  5th — and  a  faint  light  coming  through  the 
decklight  over  the  fo'c's'le — when  I,  that  had  kept 
the  middle  watch  and  was  now  snoring  in  my  bunk, 
sat  up  at  a  touch  on  my  shoulder,  and  stared,  rub- 
bing my  eyes,  into  the  dim  face  of  ]\Ir.  Goodfellow. 

"  Skipper  wants  you  on  deck,"  he  announced. 
"  We've  lifted  something  on  the  starboard  bow,  and 
he  swears  'tis  the  Island." 


264 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

WE    ANCHOR    OFF    THE    ISLAND 

The  word  fetched  me  out  of  my  bunk  like  a  shot 
from  a  gun.  I  ran  past  him,  scrambled  up  the  fo'- 
c's'le ladder,  and  gained  the  deck  in  time  to  see  Miss 
Belcher  emerge  from  the  after-companion  upon  the 
dawn,  her  hair  in  a  "  bun,"  her  bare  feet  thrust  into 
loose  felt  slippers,  her  form  wrapped  in  a  Newmarket 
overcoat  closely  buttoned  over  her  rohe  de  nuit. 

"  The  island,  ma'am !  "  announced  Captain  Brans- 
come  from  the  helm;  and,  turning  there  by  the 
fo'c's'le  hatch  and  following  the  gesture  of  his  hand, 
I  descried  a  purplish  smear  on  the  southern  hori- 
zon. To  me  it  looked  like  a  low-lying  cloud  or  a  fog- 
bank. 

"  I'll  take  your  word  for  it,"  answered  Miss 
Belcher  calmly.  "  You  have  timed  it  well,  Captain 
Branscome." 

"  Under  Providence,  ma'am,"  the  Captain  cor- 
rected her,  and  called  to  me  to  take  the  wheel  while 
he  fetched  out  his  chart  and  unrolled  it  for  her  inspec- 

265 


POISON    ISLAND 

tiou.  "  We  are  running  straight  down  upon  the 
northern  end  of  it,  and  our  best  anchorage  (if  I  may 
suggest)  lies  to  the  south'ard — in  Gow's  Creek,  aa 
they  call  it." 

He  laid  a  finger  on  the  chart. 

"  We  rely  upon  you,  sir,  to  choose." 

"  I  thank  you,  ma'am.  If  (as  I  doubt  not)  we  find 
plenty  of  water  there,  it  will  be  the  best  anchorage 
in  this  breeze ;  not  to  mention  that  this  Gow's  Creek 
runs  up,  as  w^e  are  directed,  to  within  a  mile  and  a 
half  of  the  No.  3  cache.  If  you  agree,  ma'am,  I  have 
only  to  ask  your  instructions  whether  to  coast  down 
the  east  or  the  west  side  of  the  island.  The  wind,  you 
perceive,  serves  equally  well  for  both." 

Miss  Belcher  considered  for  a  moment. 
"  The  Keys  lie  to  the  west  of  Gable  Point,  here.  By 
taking  that  side  we  can  have  a  look  at  them  on  our 
wav." 


"  Right,  ma'am.  Harry  " — he  turned  to  me — 
"  bring  her  nose  round  to  sou'-west  and  by  south,  and 
stand  by  for  the  gibe."  He  hauled  in  the  main- 
sheet  and  eased  it  over.  "  Now,  see  here,  lad,"  he 
called  to  me  sharply  as  the  little  vessel  yawed, 
"  where  were  your  eyes  just  then  ?  " 

"  I  was  taking  a  look  at  the  landfall,  sir,"  I  an- 
swered truthfully. 

"  Then  I'll  trouble  you  to  fix  your  mind  on  the  lub- 

266 


WE    ANCHOR    OFF    THE    ISLAXD 

ber's-mark  and  hold  her  straight.  That's  discipline, 
my  boy,  and  in  this  business  you  may  want  all  you 
can  learn  of  it." 

It  was  not  Captain  Branscome's  habit  to  speak 
sharply.  I  turned  my  attention  to  the  card,  conscious 
of  a  pair  of  red  ears. 

The  sky  brightened,  and  within  an  hour,  as  we  ran 
down  upon  it  at  something  like  eight  knots,  the  island 
began  to  take  shape.  A  wisp  of  morning  fog  floated 
horizontally  across  it,  dividing  its  shore-line  from  the 
hills  in  the  interior,  which,  looming  above  this  cloudy 
base,  appeared  considerably  higher  than  in  fact  they 
were.  The  shore  itself  along  the  eastern  side  showed 
almost  uniformly  steep  —  a  line  of  reddish  rock 
broken  with  patches  of  green,  which  we  mistook  for 
meadows  (but  they  turned  out  to  be  nothing  more 
or  less  than  sheets  of  green  creepers  matted  together 
and  overhanging  the  cliffs).  At  its  northern  ex- 
tremity, upon  which  we  were  closing  down  at  an 
acute  angle,  the  land  dropped  to  a  low-lying,  sandy 
peninsula  with  a  backbone  of  rock  almost  bare  of 
vegetation,  and  beyond  this  we  saw  the  white  surf 
glittering  around  the  Keys. 

Our  course  gave  them  a  fairly  wide  berth ;  and  at 
first  I  took  them  for  a  continuous  line  of  sandbanks 
running  in  a  rough  semicircle  around  the  low  spit 
which  the  chart  called  Gable  Point ;  but  as  we  drew 

267 


POISON    ISLAND 

level  they  broke  up  into  islets,  with  blue  channels  be- 
tween, and  at  sight  of  us  thousands  of  sea-birds  rose 
in  cloud  upon  cloud,  with  a  clamor  that  might  have 
been  heard  for  miles.  One  of  these  banks — the 
northernmost  —  showed  traces  of  herbage,  gray  in 
color  and  dull  by  contrast  with  the  verdure  of  the 
Island.     The  rest  were  but  barren  sand. 

We  rounded  them  at  about  three  cables'  length  and 
stood  due  south,  giving  sheet  again.  Southward  from 
the  neck  of  the  peninsula  this  western  side  of  the 
Island  differed  surprisingly  from  the  other.  Here 
were  no  cliffs,  but  a  flat  shore  and  long  stretches  of 
beach,  gradually  shelving  up  to  green  bush,  with  here 
a  pahnetto  grove  and  there  a  lagoon  of  still  water 
within  the  outer  barrier  of  sand.  Mr.  Jack  Rog- 
ers had  relieved  me  at  the  helm,  and  with  the  Cap- 
tain's permission  I  had  stepped  below  to  the  saloon, 
where  Plinny  w^as  waiting  to  give  me  breakfast,  and 
persuaded  the  good  soul  not  only  to  let  me  carry  it  on 
deck  and  eat  it  there,  but  to  postpone  washing-up  for 
a  while  and  accompany  me.  To  this  she  would  by  no 
means  consent  until  I  had  brought  her  the  Captain's 
leave. 

"  You  may  take  her  my  leave,"  said  he,  with  a 
sudden  flush  on  his  face,  "  and  my  apologies  for  hav- 
ing neglected  to  request  the  honor  of  her  company. 
The  fact  is,"  he  added,  with  a  hard  glance  at  me, 

268 


WE    ANCHOR    OFF    THE    ISLAND 

"  Miss  Plinlimmon's  sense  of  discipline  is  so  rare  a 
thing  that  I  am  always  forgetting  to  do  justice  to  it. 
Were  it  possible  to  find  a  whole  crew  so  conscientious 
I  would  undertake  to  sail  to  the  ISTorth  Pole." 

I  conveyed  this  answer  to  Plinn}'',  and  it  visibly 
gratified  her.  She  retired  at  once  to  the  ladies'  cabin 
to  indue  her  poke-bonnet  with  coquelicot  trimmings. 
Her  apron  she  retained,  observing  that  on  an  expedi- 
tion of  this  sort  one  should  never  be  taken  at  una- 
wares, and  that  when  at  Rome  you  should  do  as  the 
Romans  did.  "  By  which,  my  dear  Harry,"  she  ex- 
plained, "  you  are  not  to  understand  me  to  refer  to 
their  Papist  observances,  such  as  kissing  a  man's  toe. 
Were  such  a  request  proffered  to  me,  even  at  the  can- 
non's mouth,  I  trust  my  courage  would  find  an  an- 
swed.     '  ISTo,  no,'  I  would  say." 

ii '.  I  will  not  bow  within  the  House  of  Rimmon : 
Yours  faithfully,  Amelia  Plinlimmon.'  " 

As  we  reached  the  head  of  the  companion-ladder 
Captain  Branscome,  who  was  standing  just  aft  of  the 
wheel,  behind  Mr.  Rogers's  shoulder,  and  scanning 
the  shore  through  his  glass,  made  a  motion  to  step 
forv/ard  and  hand  her  on  deck.  This  was  ever  his 
courteous  way,  and  I  turned  a  moment  later  in  some 
surprise  to  find  that,  instead  of  closing  the  glass,  he 
had  lifted  it,  and  was  holding  it  again  to  his  eye,  at 

269 


POTSOX    ISLAXD 

the  same  time  keeping  his  right  shoulder  turned  to 
us. 

While  we  looked  he  lowered  it  and  made  his  bow, 
yet  with  something  of  a  preoccupied  air. 

"  Good-morning,  ma'am.  You  are  very  welcome 
on  deck,  and  I  trust  that  Harry  conveyed  the  apology 
I  sent  by  him." 

"  I  beg  you  will  not  mention  it,  sir.  It  is  true  that 
I  suffered  from  the  curiosity  which  outspoken  critics 
have  called  the  bane  of  my  sex ;  yet,  believe  me,  I 
was  far  from  accusing  you,  knowing  how  many  re- 
sponsibilities must  weigh  on  the  captain  of  an  expe- 
dition, even  though  it  fare  as  prosperously  as  ours." 

"  True,  ma'am."  Captain  Branscome  tapped  his 
spyglass  absent-mindedly,  and  seemed  on  the  point  of 
lifting  it  again.  "  Though,  with  your  permission,  I 
will  add  '  D.  V.'  " 

"  Yes — ^j-es  " — Plinny  smiled  a  cheerful  approval 
— "  we  are  ever  in  the  Divine  Hand ;  not  more  really, 
perhaps,  in  the  tropics  than  in  those  more  temperate 
latitudes  where,  though  the  wolf  and  lion  do  not  howl 
for  prey,  an  incautious  step  upon  a  piece  of  orange- 
peel  has  before  now  proved  equally  fatal." 

Captain  Branscome  bowed  again. 

"  You  call  me  the  leader  of  this  expedition,  Miss 
Plinlimmon ;  and  so  I  am,  until  we  drop  anchor. 
With  that,  in  two  or  three  hours  at  farthest,  my  chief 

270 


WE    AXCHOR    OFF    THE    ISLAND 

responsibility  ends,  and  I  think  it  time  " — lie  turned 
to  Mr.  Rogers — "  that  we  make  ready  to  appoint  my 
successor.     I  shall  have  a  word  to  sav  to  him." 

"  Nonsense,  man !  "  answered  Mr.  Rogers,  look- 
ing up  from  the  wheel.  "  If  you  mean  me,  I  de- 
cline to  act  except  as  your  lieutenant.  You  have  cap- 
tained us  admirably ;  and  if  I  decline  the  honor,  you 
will  hardly  suggest  promoting  Harry,  here,  or  Good- 
fellow  !  " 

''  I  was  thinking  that  Miss  Belcher,  perhaps " 

"  Hallo !  "  said  Miss  Belcher,  turning  at  the  sound 
of  her  name,  and  coming  aft  from  the  bows,  whence 
she  had  been  studying  the  coastline.  "  What's  the 
matter  with  me  ?  " 

''  The  Captain,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Rogers,  "  has  been 
tendering  us  his  resignation." 

"  Now,  why,  in  the  world  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Rogers  misunderstands  me,  ma'am,"  said 
Captain  Branscome.  "  I  merely  said  that,  so  far  as 
we  have  agreed  as  yet,  my  authority  ceases  as  soon  as 
we  cast  anchor.  If  you  choose  to  re-elect  me,  I  shall 
not  say  '  No  ' — though  not  coveting  the  honor ;  but  I 
can  only  say  '  Yes  '  upon  a  condition." 

"  Name  it,  please." 

"  That  I  have  every  one's  implicit  obedience.  I 
may — nay,  I  shall — give  orders  that  will  be  irksome, 
and  at  the  same  time  hard  to  understand.     I  may  be 

271 


POISOX    ISLAND 

unable  to  give  jou  ray  reasons  for  them ;  or  able  to 
give  you  none  beyond  the  general  warning  that  we  are 
after  treasure,  and  I  never  yet  heard  of  a  treasure- 
hunt  that  was  child's  play." 

He  spoke  quietly,  but  with  an  impressiveness  not 
to  be  mistaken,  though  we  knew  no  cause  for  it.  Miss 
Belcher,  at  any  rate,  did  not  miss  it.  She  shot  him 
a  keen  glance,  turned  for  a  moment,  and  seemed 
to  study  the  shore,  then  faced  about  again,  and  she 
said: 

"  I  am  not  used  to  be  commanded.  But  T  can  com- 
mand myself,  and  am  not  altogether  a  fool." 

The  Captain  bowed. 

"  I  was  thinking,  ma'am,  that  might  be  our  diffi- 
culty.    But  if  I  have  your  Avord  to  try " 

"  You  have." 

"  I  thank  you,  ma'am,  and  will  own  that  my  mind 
is  relieved.  It  may  even  be  that,  from  time  to  time, 
I  may  do  myself  the  honor  of  consulting  you.  Never- 
theless  " 

"  I  mustn't  count  on  it,  eh  ?  Well,  as  you  please ; 
only  I  warn  you  that,  while  in  any  case  I  am  going  to 
be  as  good  as  my  word,  if  you  treat  me  like  a  sensible 
person  I  shall  probably  be  a  trifle  better." 

For  five  seconds,  maybe,  the  pair  looked  one  an- 
other in  the  eyes ;  then  the  Captain  bowed  once  more, 
and  apparently  this  invited  her  to  step  forward  with 

272 


WE    ANCHOR    OFF    THE    ISLAXD 

him  to  the  bows,  where  they  halted  and  stood  conning 
the  coast,  the  Captain  through  his  spyglass. 

As  they  left  ns,  Plinny  and  I  moved  to  the  waist 
of  the  ship,  where  we  paused  by  consent  and  I  re- 
sumed my  breakfast,  munching  it  as  I  leaned  against 
the  port  bulwarks.  We  were  now  rapidly  opening 
Long  Bay  (as  the  chart  called  it),  a  deep  recess  run- 
ning out  squarely  at  either  extremity,  the  bight  of  it 
crossed  by  a  beach  and  a  line  of  tumbling  breakers, 
that  extended  for  close  upon  three  miles.  Above  the 
beach  a  forest  of  tall  trees,  in  height  and  color  at  once 
distinguishable  from  the  thick  bush  we  had  hitherto 
been  passing,  screened  the  bases  of  a  range  of  hills 
which  obviously  formed  the  backbone  of  the  island ; 
and  as  the  whole  bay  crept  into  view  we  discerned  in 
the  north  (or,  to  be  accurate,  X.  X.  E.)  corner  of  this 
long  recess  a  flat,  marshy  valley  dividing  the  scrub 
from  the  forest.  The  mouth  of  this  valley,  where  it 
widened  out  upon  the  beach,  measured  at  least  half  a 
mile  across.  The  chart  marked  it  as  Misery  Swamp, 
and  indicated  a  river  there.  We  could  detect  none, 
or,  at  any  rate,  no  river  entrance.  If  river  there  were, 
doubtless  it  emptied  its  waters  through  the  fringe  of 
gray-green  weeds,  and  dispersed  over  the  flat-looking 
foreshore;  but  even  at  two  miles'  distance  it  looked 
to  be  a  dismal,  fever-haunted  spot. 

By  contrast,  the  noble  range  of  woodland  to  south- 

273 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

ward  of  it  and  the  rocky  peaks  that  rose  in  delicate 
shadow  above  the  tree-tops  were  beautiful  as  a  dream, 
even  to  eyes  fresh  from  the  forest  scenery  of  Ja- 
maica; and  while  Plinny  leant  with  me  against  the 
bulwarks,  I  felt  that  in  the  silence  immortal  verse 
was  shaping  itself,  which  it  did  after  a  while  to  this 
effect  : 

'.'  Arrived  o'er  the  limitless  ocean 
In  16  degrees  of  N.  latitude, 
Our  lips  were  attuned  to  devotion, 
Our  spirits  ui:)lifted  in  gratitude. 

"  Our  hearts  with  poetic  afflatus 

Took  wing  and  impulsively  soared 
As  the  lead-line  (a  quaint  apparatus) 
Reported  the  depth  overboard. 

!'  Oh,  oft  had  I  dream 'd  of  the  tropics — 
But  never  to  see  them  in  person — ■ 
So  full  of  remarkable  topics 

To  speculate,  sing,  and  converse  on!" 


It  was  Mr.  Goodfellow  who  worked  the  handlead, 
under  Captain  Branscome's  orders,  from  a  perch  just 
forward  of  the  main  rigging ;  but  at  a  mile's  distance 
we  carried  deep  water  with  us  past  Crabtree  Point, 
and  around  the  unnamed  small  cape  which  formed 
the  south-western  extremity  of  the  island.  We 
rounded  this,  and,  hauling  up  to  the  wind,  found  (as 
the  reader  may  discover  for  himself  by  a  glance  at 

274 


WE    AIS^CHOR    OFF    THE    ISLAXD 

the  chart)  that  the  shore  made  almost  directly  E.  by 
'N.,  with  scarcely  an  indentation,  for  Gow's  Gulf. 

Here  the  water  shoaled,  though  for  the  first  mile 
almost  imperceptibly.  The  inlet  itself  resembled  the 
estuary  of  a  mighty  river,  both  its  sides  well  wooded, 
though  very  different  in  configuration,  the  northern 
rising  quietly  from  shelving  beaches  of  coral-white 
sand  to  some  of  the  tallest  peaks  on  the  island, 
while  that  on  our  starboard  hand  presented  a  suc- 
cession of  cliff  and  chasm,  the  cliffs  varying,  as  we 
judged,  from  two  hundred  to  two  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  sheer. 

In  three  and  a  half  fathoms  (reported  by  Mr. 
Goodfellow)  the  water,  which  was  exquisitely  clear, 
showed  good  white  sand  under  us.  Ahead  of  us  the 
creek  narrowed,  promising  an  anchorage  almost  com- 
pletely landlocked  and  as  peaceful  as  the  soul  of 
man  could  desire.  We  drew  a  short  eight  feet  of 
water,  and  with  such  soundings  (for  the  tide  had  not 
been  making  above  an  hour)  I  expected  the  old  man 
to  hold  on  for  at  least  another  mile,  when  to  my  sur- 
prise he  took  the  helm  from  Mr.  Rogers,  and,  sending 
him  forward,  shook  the  "  Espriella  "  up  in  the  wind, 
at  the  same  time  calling  to  Goodfellow  to  lower  the 
main  throat-halliards. 

"  Leave  go  anchor  !  " 

With  a  splash,  her  anchor  plunged  over,  took  the 

275 


POISOX    ISLAND 

ground,  and  in  another  fifty  yards  brought  us  up 
standing. 

"  Hallo ! "  Miss  Belcher  scanned  the  shore. 
"  You're  giving  the  boat  a  long  trip,  Captain." 

"  I  take  my  precautions,  ma'am,"  answered  Cap- 
tain Branscome,  almost  curtly. 


276 


CHAPTER  XXV 

I  TAKE  FRENCH  LEAVE  ASHORE 

In  a  sweating  hurry  I  helped  Mr.  Rogers  and  Mr. 
Goodfellow  to  furl  sail,  coil  away  ropes,  and  tidy  up 
generally.  After  these  tedious  weeks  at  sea  I  was 
wild  for  a  run  ashore,  and,  with  the  green  woods  in- 
viting me,  grudged  even  an  hour's  delay. 

We  had  run  down  foresail  and  come  to  our  anchor 
under  jib  and  half -lowered  mainsail.  I  sprang  for- 
ward to  take  in  the  jib  and  carry  it,  with  the  fore- 
sail, to  the  locker  abaft  the  ladies'  cabin,  when  Cap- 
tain Branscome  sang  out  to  me  to  he  in  no  such 
hurry,  but  to  fold  and  stow  both  sails  neatly  with- 
out detaching  them — the  one  along  the  bowsprit,  the 
other  at  the  foot  of  the  fore-stay,  when  they  could  be 
re-hoisted  at  a  moment's  notice. 

These  precautions  w^ere  the  more  mysterious  to  me 
because  a  moment  later  he  sent  me  to  the  locker  to 
fetch  up  a  tarpaulin  cover  for  the  mainsail,  which  he 
snugged  down  carefully,  to  protect  it  (as  he  ex- 
plained) from  the  night  dews — so  carefully  that  he 

277 


POISON    ISLAXD 

twice  interrupted  Mr.  Goodfellow  to  correct  a  piece 
of  slovenly  tying.  The  sail  being  packed  at  length 
to  his  satisfaction,  we  laced  the  cover  about  it  like  a 
lady's  bodice. 

Our  next  business  was  to  get  out  the  boats.  The 
"  Espriella  "  possessed  three — a  gig,  shaped  some- 
what like  a  whaleboat ;  a  useful,  twelve-foot  dinghy ; 
and  a  small  cockboat,  or  "  punt "  (to  use  our  West 
Country  name),  capable,  at  a  pinch,  of  accommodat- 
ing two  persons.  This  last  we  carried  on  deck ;  but  the 
larger  pair  were  at  the  foot  of  the  rigging  on  either 
side,  whence  we  unlashed  and  lowered  them  by  their 
falls.  The  punt  we  moored  by  a  short  painter  under 
the  bowsprit,  so  that  she  lay  just  clear  of  our  stern. 

This  small  job  had  fallen  to  me  by  the  Captain's 
orders,  and  I  clambered  back,  to  find  him  and  Mr. 
Rogers  standing  by  the  accommodation  ladder  on  the 
port  side,  and  in  the  act  of  stepping  down  into  the 
dinghy.  Indeed,  Mr.  Rogers  had  his  foot  on  the  lad- 
der, and  seemed  to  wait  only  while  the  Captain  gave 
some  instructions  to  Mr.  Goodfellow,  who  was  listen- 
ing respectfully. 

"  Are  we  all  to  go  ashore  in  the  dinghy  ?  "  I  asked. 
•  The  Captain  turned  on  me  severely,  and  I  ob- 
served that  he  and  Mr.  Rogers  had  armed  themselves 
with  a  musket  apiece,  each  slung  on  a  bandolier,  and 
that  Mr.  Rogers  wore  an  axe  at  his  belt. 

278 


I  TAKE  EEENCH  LEAVE  ASHORE 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  the  Captain.  "  Mr.  Rogers 
and  I  are  going  on  shore  to  prospect,  and  I  was  at 
this  moment  instructing  Mr.  Goodfellow  that  nobody 
is  to  leave  the  ship  Avithoiit  leave  from  me." 

"  But — "  I  began,  and  checked  myself,  less  for 
fear  of  his  anger  than  because  I  was  actually  on  the 
verge  of  tears.  I  looked  around  for  the  ladies,  but 
thev  had  retired  to  their  cabin.  Oh,  this  was  hard — 
a  monstrous  tyranny  !  And  so  I  told  Mr.  Goodfellow 
hotly  as  the  dinghy  pushed  off,  and,  Mr.  Rogers  pad- 
dling her,  drew  away  up  the  creek  and  rounded  the 
bend  under  the  almost  overhanging  trees. 

"  When  are  they  coming  back  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"  Captain  didn't  say." 

"  You  seem  to  take  it  easily,"  I  flamed  up ;  "  but 
/  call  it  a  burning  shame  !  Captain  Branscome  seems 
to  think  that  this  Island  belongs  to  him;  and  you 
know  well  enough,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me,  he'd  never 
have  set  eyes  on  it.    What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Smoke  a  pipe,"  said  Mr.  Goodfellow,  "  and 
watch  the  beauties  o'  Nature." 

"  Well,  I'm  not,"  I  threatened.  "  Captain  Brans- 
come  may  be  a  very  good  seaman,  but  he's  too  much 
of  an  usher  out  of  school.    This  isn't  Stimcoe's." 

"  Not  a  bit  like  it,"  assented  Mr.  Goodfellow,  feel- 
ing in  his  pockets. 

"  And  if  he  thinks  he  can  go  on  playing  the  usher 

279 


POISON    ISLAND 

over  me,  he'll  find  out  his  mistake.  Why,  look  you, 
whose  is  the  treasure,  properly  speaking?  Who 
found  it  ?  " 

"  Nobody  yet." 

Mr.  Goodfellow  drew  forth  a  pipe  and  rubbed  the 
bowl  thoughtfully  against  his  nose. 

"  Well,  then,  who  found  the  chart  ?  Who  put  you 
all  on  the  scent  ?  Who  was  it  first  heard  the  secret 
from  Captain  Coffin  ?  And  this  man  doesn't  even 
consult  me — doesn't  think  me  worth  a  civil  word ! 
I'll  be  shot  if  I  stand  it !  "  I  wound  up,  pacing  the 
deck  in  my  rage. 

Just  then  Plinny's  voice  called  up  to  us  from  the 
cabin,  announcing  that  dinner  was  ready. 

"  But,"  said  she,  ''"  one  of  you  must  eat  his  portion 
on  deck  while  he  keeps  watch;  that  was  Captain 
Branscome's  order." 

"  More  orders !  "  I  grumbled ;  and  then,  with  a 
sudden  thought,  I  nodded  to  Mr.  Goodfellow,  who 
was  replacing  his  pipe  in  his  pocket.  "  You  go. 
Hand  me  up  a  plate  and  a  fistful  of  ship  biscuit,  and 
leave  me  to  deal  with  'em.  I'm  not  for  stifling  down 
there  under  hatches,  whatever  your  taste  may  be." 

"  'Tis  a  fact,"  he  admitted,  "  that  a  meal  does  me 
more  good  when  I  square  my  elbows  to  it." 

"  Down  you  go,  then,"  said  I ;  "  and  when  you're 
wanted  I'll  call  you." 

280 


I    TAKE    i'RENCH    LEAVE    ASHORE 

He  descended  cheerfully,  reappeared  to  pass  up  a 
plate,  and  descended  again.  I  gobbled  down  enough 
to  stay  my  appetite,  crammed  my  pocket  full  of  ship 
biscuit,  and,  after  listening  for  a  moment  at  the 
hatchway,  tiptoed  forward  and  climbed  out  upon  the 
bowsprit.  Then,  having  unloosed  the  cockboat's 
painter,  I  lowered  and  let  myself  drop  into  her,  and, 
slipping  a  paddle  into  the  stern-notch,  sculled  gently 
for  shore. 

The  "  Espriella,"  of  course,  lay  swinging  head-to- 
tide,  and  the  tide  by  this  time  was  making  strongly — 
so  strongly  that  I  had  no  time  to  get  steerage-way  on 
the  little  boat  before  it  sw^ept  her  close  under  the  open 
porthole,  through  which  I  heard  Miss  Belcher  invit- 
ing Mr.  Goodfellow  to  pass  his  plate  for  another 
dumpling.  Miss  Belcher's  voice — as  I  may  or  may 
not  have  informed  the  reader — was  a  baritone  of  sin- 
gularly resonant  timbre.  It  sounded  through  the 
porthole  as  through  a  speaking  trumpet,  and  I  ducked 
and  held  my  breath  as  the  boat's  gunwale  rubbed 
twice  against  the  schooner's  side  before  drifting 
clear. 

Once  clear,  however,  I  worked  my  paddle  with  a 
will,  though  noiselessly;  and,  the  tide  helping  me, 
soon  reached  and  rounded  the  first  bend.  Here,  out 
of  sight  of  the  ship,  I  had  leisure  to  draw  breath  and 
look  about  me. 

281 


POISON    ISLAND 

Ahead  of  me  lay  a  still  reach,  close  upon  half  a 
mile  in  lengtli  and  narrowing  steadily  to  the  next 
bend,  where  the  two  shores  overlapped  and  mingled 
their  reflections  on  the  water.  On  my  right  the  red 
cliffs,  their  summits  matted  with  creepers,  descended 
sheer  into  water  many  fathoms  deep,  yet  so  clear  that 
I  could  spy  the  fish  playing  about  their  bases  where 
they  met  the  firm  white  sand.  On  my  left  the  chan- 
nel shoaled  gradually  to  a  beach  of  this  same  white 
sand,  which  followed  the  curve  of  the  shore,  here  and 
again  flashing  out  into  broad  sunshine  from  the  blue 
shadow  cast  by  the  overhanging  forest. 

Between  these  banks  the  breeze  could  scarcely  be 
felt,  yet,  though  the  sun  scorched  me,  the  heat  was 
not  oppressive.  The  woods,  dense  and  tangled 
though  they  were,  threw  up  no  exhalations  of  mud 
or  rotting  leaves,  but  a  clean,  aromatic  odor.  It 
seemed  to  give  them  a  substance  without  which 
they  had  been  but  a  mirage,  a  scene  painted  on  a 
cloth,  so  motionless  and  apparently  lifeless  they 
stood,  with  the  long  vines  hanging  from  their 
boughs,  and  the  hot,  rarefied  air  quivering  above 
them. 

At  first  their  silence  daunted  me ;  by  and  by  I  felt 
(I  could  hardly  be  said  to  hear)  that  this  silence  was 
intense,  and  held  a  sound  of  its  own,  a  murmur  as  of 
millions  of  flies  and  minute  winged  things — or  per- 

282 


I  TAKE  FRENCH  LEAVE  ASHORE 

haps  it  came  from  the  vegetation  itself,  and  the  sap 
pushing  leaf  against  leaf  and  ceaselessly  striving  for 
room. 

With  scarcely  more  noise  than  the  forest  made  in 
growing,  I  let  the  cockboat  float  up  on  the  tide,  cor- 
recting her  course  from  time  to  time  with  a  touch  of 
the  paddle  astern ;  and  so,  coming  to  the  second  bend, 
began  to  search  the  sheer  for  a  convenient  landing. 
The  Captain  and  Mr.  Rogers,  no  doubt,  had  rowed 
up  to  the  very  head  of  the  creek,  and  would  by  this 
time  be  prospecting  for  the  clump  of  trees  which  were 
the  key  to  unlock  ISTo.  3  cache.  To  escape — or,  at 
any  rate,  delay — detection,  I  must  land  lower  down, 
and  preferably  at  some  point  where  I  could  pull  up 
the  boat  and  hide  it. 

With  this  in  my  mind,  scanning  the  woods  on  the 
north  bank  for  an  opening,  I  drifted  around  the 
bend,  and  with  a  shock  of  surprise  found  myself  in 
full  view  of  the  end  of  the  creek.  Worse  than  this, 
I  was  bearing  straight  for  the  "  Espriella's  "  dinghy, 
which  lay  just  above  water  on  the  foreshore,  with  her 
painter  carried  out  to  a  tree  above  the  bank.  Worst 
of  all,  some  one  at  that  instant  stepped  back  from  the 
bank  and  under  the  shadow  of  the  tree,  as  if  to  await 
me  there.  Mr.  Rogers,  or  the  Captain  ?  Mr.  Rogers 
certainly;  for  I  remembered  that  the  Captain  wore 
white  duck  trousers,  and,  by  my  glimpse  of  him,  this 

283 


POISON    ISLAND 

man's  clothes  were  dark.  His  height  and  walk,  too ! 
Yes;  no  doubt  of  it  he  was  Mr.  Rogers. 

I  stood — a  culprit  caught  red-handed — and  let  the 
boat  drift  me  down  upon  retributive  justice.  A 
while  ago  I  had  been  mentally  composing  a  number 
of  effective  retorts  upon  Captain  Branscome  for  his 
tyrannical  behavior.  Now,  of  a  sudden,  all  this  elo- 
quence deserted  me :  I  felt  it  leaking  away  and  knew 
myself  for  a  law-breaker.  One  lingering  hope  re- 
mained that  the  Captain  had  pushed  ahead  into  the 
woods,  and  that  as  yet  Mr.  Jack  Rogers  (whose  good 
nature  I  might  almost  count  upon)  had  alone  de- 
tected me  and  would  pack  me  home  to  the  ship  with 
nothing  worse  than  a  flea  in  my  ear. 

His  silence  encouraged  this  hope.  Half  a  minute 
passed  and  still  he  forebore  to  lift  his  voice  and  sum- 
mon me.  He  stood,  deep  in  the  shadow,  his  face 
screened  by  the  boughs,  and  made  no  motion  to  ad- 
vance to  the  bank. 

Then  suddenly — at,  maybe,  two  hundred  yards' 
distance — I  saw  him  take  another  pace  backwards 
and  slip  away  among  the  trees. 

"  Good  man!  "  thought  I,  and  blessed  him  (after 
my  first  start  of  astonishment).  "  He  has  pretended 
not  to  see  me." 

At  any  rate  he  had  given  me  a  pretty  good  hint  to 
make  myself  scarce  unless  I  wished  to  incur  Captain 

284 


I  TAKE  FRENCH  LEAVE  ASHORE 

Branscome's  wrath.  I  slipped  my  paddle  forward 
into  a  rowlock,  picked  up  the  other,  and,  dropping 
upon  the  thwart,  jerked  the  cockboat  right-about-face 
to  head  her  back  for  the  schooner. 

But  after  a  stroke  or  two  I  eased  and  let  her  drift 
back  stern-foremost  while  I  sat  considering.  Mr. 
Rogers  had  behaved  like  a  trump ;  yet  it  seemed  mean 
to  deceive  the  old  man,  and,  moreover,  it  amounted 
to  striking  my  colors.  I  had  broken  orders  deliber- 
ately and  because  I  denied  his  right  to  give  such 
orders.  I  might  be  a  youngster ;  but,  to  say  the  least 
of  it,  I  had  as  much  interest  in  the  success  of  this 
expedition  as  any  member  of  the  company.  The 
shortest  way  to  dissuade  Captain  Branscome  from 
treating  me  as  a  child  was  to  assert  myself  from  the 
beginning.  I  had  started  with  full  intent  to  assert 
myself,  and — yes,  I  was  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Rogers, 
but  this  question  between  me  and  Branscome  had 
best  be  settled,  though  it  meant  open  mutiny,  I  felt 
pretty  sure  that  Miss  Belcher  would  support  the 
tyrant;  almost  equally  sure  that  Plinny  would  ac- 
quiesce though  her  sympathy  went  with  me;  and 
strangely  enough,  and  unjustly,  I  felt  the  angrier 
with  Plinny.  But  even  against  Miss  Belcher  I  had 
a  card  to  play.  "  Captain  Branscome  may  be  an  ex- 
cellent leader,"  I  would  say ;  "  but  I  beg  you  to  re- 
member that  you  gave  me  no  vote  in  electing  him.    I 

285 


POISON    ISLAND 

will  obey  any  leader  I  have  my  share  in  choosing,  but 
until  then  I  stand  out."  And  I  had  an  inkling  that 
though  the  public  voice  would  be  against  me  I  should 
establish  my  claim  to  be  taken  into  any  future 
counsels. 

''  In  for  a  lamb,  in  for  a  sheep',"  thought  I,  and 
began  to  back  the  cockboat  towards  the  corner  where 
the  dinghy  lay.  As  I  did  so  it  occurred  to  me  to 
wonder  why  the  Captain  and  Mr.  Rogers  had  been  so 
dilatory.  They  must  have  started  a  full  hour  ahead 
of  me ;  they  had  left  the  schooner  at  a  brisk  stroke, 
whereas  I  had  merely  floated  up  with  the  tide.  Yet 
either  I  had  all  but  surprised  them  in  the  act  of  step- 
ping ashore,  or,  if  they  had  landed  at  once,  why  had 
Mr.  Rogers  loitered  on  the  bank  until  I  was  close  on 
overtaking  him? 

Thev  had  landed  at  the  extreme  head  of  the  creek. 
Therefore  (I  argued)  their  intent  was  to  follow  up 
the  stream  here  indicated  on  the  chart  and  search  for 
the  clump  of  trees  which  guarded  the  secret  of  No.  3 
cache. 

Sure  enough,  having  beached  my  boat  alongside 
the  dinghy  and  climbed  the  green  knoll  above  the 
foreshore,  I  spied  their  footprints  on  the  sandy  edge 
of  the  stream  which  here  fetched  a  loop  before  join- 
ing the  tidal  waters  of  the  creek.  They  led  me  along 
a  flat  meadow  of  exquisitely  green  turf,  fringed  with 

28G 


I  TAKE  FRENCH  LEAVE  ASHORE 

palmetto-trees,  to  the  entrance  of  a  narrow  gorge 
through  which  the  stream  came  tumbling  in  a  series 
of  cascades,  spraying  the  ferns  that  overhung  it. 
The  forest  with  its  undergrowth  pressed  so  closely 
upon  either  bank  that  after  scrambling  up  beside  the 
first  waterfall  I  was  forced  to  take  off  shoes  and 
stockings  and  work  my  way  up  the  irregular  bed, 
now  wading  knee-deep,  now  clambering  or  leaping 
from  boulder  to  boulder ;  and,  even  so,  to  press  from 
time  to  time  through  the  meeting  boughs,  shielding 
my  face  from  scratches.  So,  for  at  least  a  mile,  I 
climbed  as  through  a  narrow  green  tunnel,  and  by  the 
end  of  it  found  myself  wet  to  the  skin.  Five  water- 
falls I  had  passed,  and,  beside  the  fourth,  where  the 
bank  was  muddy,  had  noted  a  long,  smooth  mark, 
and  recent,  such  as  a  man's  foot  might  make  in  slip- 
ping ;  so  that  I  felt  pretty  confident  of  being  on  my 
companions'  track,  though  I  wondered  how  the  Cap- 
tain with  his  lame  leg  could  sustain  such  a  climb. 

But  above  the  fifth  waterfall  the  stream  divided 
into  two  branches,  and  at  the  fork  of  them  I  stood 
for  a  while  in  doubt  which  to  choose.  So  far  as  vol- 
ume of  water  went,  there  was,  indeed,  little  or  noth- 
ing to  choose.  If  direction  counted,  the  main  stream 
would  be  that  which  came  rushing  down  the  gorge 
straight  ahead  of  me,  a  gorge  which,  however,  as  my 
eye  followed  the  V  of  its  tree-tops  up  to  the  sky-line, 

287 


rOISOX    ISLAND 

promised  to  grow  steeper  and  worse  tangled.  On  the 
other  hand  the  tributary  (as  I  shall  call  it),  which 
poured  down  from  a  lateral  valley  on  my  left,  ran 
with  an  easier  flow,  as  though  drawing  its  waters 
from  less  savage  slopes.  I  could  not  see  these  slopes 
— a  bend  of  the  hills  hid  them ;  but  I  reasoned  that 
if  a  clump  of  trees,  separate  and  distinguishable, 
stood  anyw^here  near  the  banks  of  either  stream,  it 
might  possibly  be  found  by  this  one.  The  other 
showed  nothing  but  a  close  mass  of  vegetation. 

Accordingly  I  turned  my  steps  up  the  channel  to 
the  left,  and  was  rewarded,  after  another  twenty 
minutes'  scramble,  by  emerging  upon  a  break  in  the 
forest.  On  one  side  of  the  stream  rose  a  reddish- 
colored  cliff,  almost  smooth  of  face  and  about  seventy 
or  eighty  feet  high,  across  the  edge  of  which  the  last 
trees  on  the  summit  clutched  with  their  naked  roots, 
as  though  protesting  against  being  thrust  over  the 
precipice  by  the  crowd  behind  them.  The  other  bank 
welled  up,  from  a  little  above  the  water's  edge,  to  a 
fair,  green  lawm,  rounded,  grassy,  and  smooth  as  a 
glade  in  an  English  park.  At  its  widest  I  dare  say 
that,  from  the  stream's  edge  back  to  the  steep  slope 
where  the  forest  started  again  and  climbed  to  a  tall 
ridge  that  shut  in  the  glen  on  the  south  side,  it  meas- 
ured something;  over  two  hundred  vards. 

"  Here,"  thought  I,  glancing  up  the  glade  towards 

288 


I  TAKE  FEENOH  LEAVE  ASHORE 

the  westering  sun,  "  is  the  very  spot  for  our  clump 
of  trees  "  ;  and  so  it  was — only  no  clump  of  trees  hap- 
pened to  be  in  sight.  The  glade,  however,  stretched 
away  and  around  a  bend  of  the  stream,  and  I  was 
moving  to  the  bank  to  explore  it  to  its  end  when  my 
eyes  were  arrested  by  something  white  not  ten  paces 
away.  It  was  a  piece  of  paper  caught  against  one 
of  the  large  boulders  between  which,  as  through  a 
broken  dam,  the  water  poured  into  the  ravine.  I 
waded  towards  it  and  stooped,  steadying  myself 
against  the  current. 
It  was  a  paper  boat. 


289 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

THE    WOMEN    IN    THE    GRAVEYARD 

I  TURNED  it  over  in  my  hand.  Yes ;  it  was  a  boat 
such  as  children  make  out  of  paper,  many  times 
folded,  and,  ''  What  on  earth,"  thought  I,  "  put  such 
childishness  into  the  head  of  Captain  Branscome  or 
Mr.  Jack  Rogers  ?  " 

Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  they  might  be  caught 
in  some  peril  higher  up  the  stream,  and  had  launched 
this  message  on  the  chance  of  its  being  carried  down 
to  the  waters  of  the  creek.  A  far-fetched  explana- 
tion, to  be  sure !  But  what  was  I  to  think  ?  If  it 
were  the  explanation,  doubtless  the  paper  contained 
writing,  and,  carrying  it  to  the  bank,  I  seated  myself 
and  began  to  unfold  it  very  carefully,  for  it  was  sod- 
den, and  threatened  to  fall  to  pieces  in  my  hands. 
Then  I  reflected  that  the  two  men  carried  no  writing 
materials,  or,  at  the  best,  a  lead  pencil,  the  marks  of 
whicli  would  be  obliterated  before  the  paper  had  been 
two  minutes  in  the  water. 

Yet,  as  I  parted  the  folds,  I  saAi^  that  the  paper 

290 


THE    WOMEN    m    THE    GRAVEYARD 

had  indeed  been  scribbled  on,  though  the  words  were 
a  smear,  and  that,  moreover,  the  writing  was  in  ink ! 
In  ink !  My  fingers  trembled  and  involuntarily 
tore  a  small  rent  in  the  pulpy  mess.  I  laid  it  on  the 
grass  to  dry  in  the  full  sunshine,  seated  myself  beside 
it,  and  looked  around  me  with  a  shiver. 

A  paper  boat  —  the  paper  written  on  —  and  the 
writing  in  ink !  I  could  be  sworn  that  neither  Cap- 
tain Branscome  nor  Mr.  Rogers  carried  an  inkbottle. 
The  paper,  too,  was  of  a  kind  unfamiliar  to  me — 
thin,  foreign  paper,  ruled  with  faint  lines  in  water- 
mark. Certainly  no  one  on  board  the  "  Espriella  " 
owned  such  writing-paper  or  the  like  of  it.  But 
again,  the  paper  could  not  have  been  long  in  the 
water,  and  the  writing  seemed  to  be  fresh.  As  the 
torn  edges  crinkled  in  the  heat  and  curled  themselves 
half  open,  I  peered  between  them  and  distinguished 
a  capital  "  R,"  followed  by  an  "  i,"  but  these  letters 
ran  into  a  long  smear,  impossible  to  decipher. 

I  had  flung  myself  prone  on  the  grass,  and  so  lay, 
with  chin  propped  on  both  palms,  staring  at  the  thing 
as  if  it  had  been  some  strange  beetle — staring  till  my 
eyes  ached.  But  now  I  took  it  in  my  fingers  again 
and  prised  the  edges  a  little  wider.  Below  the  smear 
came  a  blank  space,  and  below  this  were  five  lines 
ruled  in  ink  with  a  number  of  dotted  marks  between 
them — a  smudged  stave  of  music  ?    Yes,  certainly  it 

291 


POISOX    ISLAJ^D 

was  music.  I  could  distinguish  the  mark  of  the 
treble  clef.  Lastly,  at  the  foot  of  the  page,  as  I  un- 
wrapped it  at  length,  came  a  blurred  illegible  signa- 
ture. 

But  what  mattered  the  sense  of  it  ?  The  writing 
was  here,  and  recent.  iN'o  one  on  board  the  "  Es- 
priella  "  could  have  penned  it.  The  island,  then,  was 
inhabited — now,  at  this  moment  inhabited,  and  the 
inhabitants,  whoever  they  might  be,  at  this  moment 
not  far  from  me. 

I  crushed  the  paper  into  my  pocket,  and  stood  up, 
slowly  looking  about  me.  For  a  second  or  two  panic 
had  me  by  the  hair.  I  turned  to  run,  but  the  dense 
woods  through  which  I  had  ascended  so  light-heart- 
edly had  suddenly  become  a  jungle  of  God  knows 
what  terrors.  I  remembered  that  from  the  first  cas- 
cade upward  I  had  scarcely  once  had  a  view  of  more 
than  a  dozen  yards  ahead,  so  thickly  the  bushes  closed 
in  upon  me.  I  saw  myself  retracing  my  steps  through 
those  bushes,  in  every  one  of  which  now  lurked  a  pair 
of  watching  eyes.  I  glanced  up  at  the  cliff  across  the 
stream.  For  aught  I  knew,  eyes  were  watching  me 
from  its  summit. 

Needless  to  say,  I  cursed  the  hour  of  my  transgres- 
sion, the  fatal  impulse  that  had  prompted  me  to  break 
ship.  I  knew  myself  for  a  fool ;  but  how  might  I  win 
back  to  repentance  ? — as  repent  I  certainly  would  and 

292 


THE    WOMEX    IN    THE    GEAVEYAED 

acknowledge  my  fault.  Could  I  keep  hold  on  my 
nerve  to  thread  my  way  back  and  over  those  five  sepa- 
rate and  accursed  w-aterf alls  ?  If  only  I  were  given 
a  clear  space  to  run ! 

At  this  point  in  the  nexus  of  my  fears  it  occurred 
to  me,  glancing  along  the  green  lawn  ahead,  that  the 
ridge  on  its  left  must  run  almost  parallel  with  the 
creek;  that  it  was  sparsely  wooded  in  comparison 
with  the  ravine  behind  me,  and  that  from  the  summit 
of  it  I  might  even  look  straight  down  upon  the  "  Es- 
priella's  "  anchorage.  Be  this  as  it  might,  I  felt  sure, 
considering  the  lie  of  the  land,  that  here  must  be  a 
short  cut  back  to  the  creek ;  and  once  beside  its  waters 
I  could  head  back  along  the  beach  and  regain  my  boat. 
Down  there  I  might  dismiss  my  fears.  The  upper  por- 
tion of  the  beach,  if  I  mistook  not,  remained  uncov- 
ered at  the  top  of  any  ordinary  tides,  and  it  wanted 
yet  a  good  two  hours  to  high-water ;  so  that  I  had  not 
the  smallest  doubt  of  being  able  to  reach  the  creek- 
head,  no  matter  at  what  point  of  the  foreshore  I  might 
descend.  Erom  the  bank  where  I  stood  I  had  the 
w^hole  ridge  in  view  above  the  dense  foliage,  and  could 
select  the  most  promising  point  to  make  for ;  but  this 
would  sink  out  of  sight  as  I  approached  the  first  belt 
of  trees,  and  beyond  them  I  must  find  my  way  by 
guesswork. 

I  now  observed  a  sharp  notch  breaking  the  line  of 

293 


POISON    ISLAND 

the  ridge,  about  a  mile  to  the  westward,  and  walked 
some  few  hundred  yards  forward  on  the  chance  that  it 
might  widen  as  I  drew  more  nearly  abreast  of  it,  and 
open  into  a  passage  between  the  hills.  Widen  it  did, 
but  very  gradually — the  stream  curving  away  from 
it  all  the  while;  and  by  and  by  I  halted  again,  in 
two  minds  whether  to  break  straight  across  for  it  or 
continue  this  slow  process  of  making  sure. 

I  had  now  reached  a  point  where  the  tall  cliff  on 
the  opposite  shore  either  ended  abruptly  or  took  a 
sharp  turn  back  from  the  stream.  I  could  not  deter- 
mine which,  and  walked  forward  yet  another  two 
hundred  yards  to  satisfy  myself.  This  brought  me  in 
view  of  a  grove  of  palmettos,  clustering  under  the 
very  lee  of  the  rock — or  so  it  appeared  at  first,  but 
a  second  look  told  me  that  here  the  stream  again  di- 
vided, and  that  the  new  confluent  swept  by  the  base 
of  the  rock,  between  it  and  the  palmettos,  three  or 
four  of  which  (their  roots,  maybe,  sapped  by  by- 
gone floods)  leaned  sideways  and  almost  hid  the 
junction. 

I  was  turning  away,  resolved  now  to  steer  straight 
for  the  notch  in  the  hills,  when  a  gleam  of  something 
white  arrested  me,  and  I  stood  still,  mv  heart  in  mv 
mouth.  The  white  object,  whatever  it  was,  stood 
within  the  circle  of  the  palmetto  stems,  yet  not  very 
deep  within  it — a  dozen  yards  at  farthest  from  the 

294 


THE    WOMEN    1^    THE    GRAVEYARD 

stream's  edge.  I  stared  at  it,  and  the  longer  I  stared 
the  more  I  was  puzzled,  imtil  I  plunged  into  the 
water  and  waded  across  for  a  closer  look. 

Gaining  the  bank,  I  saw,  first,  that  the  white  object 
was  but  one  of  many,  disposed  in  two  rows  as  regular 
as  the  tree-stems  allowed ;  next,  that  these  objects 
were  wooden  boards,  painted  white ;  and  with  that,  as 
I  stepped  towards  the  foremost,  my  foot  slipped  and 
I  fell,  twisting  my  ankle  and  narrowly  saving  myself 
from  an  ugly  sprain.  I  had  stumbled  in  a  hollow, 
shallow  depression  between  the  mounds.  Picking  my- 
self up,  I  saw  that  to  left  and  right  and  all  around  me 
the  turf  was  ridged  with  similar  mounds,  the  whole 
enclosure  full  of  them.  In  a  flash  I  read  the  meaning 
of  the  white-painted  boards.  Yes — and  there  was 
writing  on  them,  too — no  words,  but  single  letters 
and  dates,  roughly  painted  in  black — "  O.  M.,  1796  " 
— "  R.  A.  S.,  1796  "— "  P.  d.  V.  and  A.  ]\r.  d.  V., 
1800  " — these,  and  perhaps  two  score  of  others.  The 
shape  of  the  mounds  interpreted  these  inscriptions. 

I  was  in  a  graveyard. 

I  sat  helpless  for  a  minute,  dreadfully  scanning 
the  gloom  through  which  the  massed  palmetto-tops 
admitted  but  a  shaft  of  light  here  and  there.  The 
flies,  which  had  been  a  nuisance  across  the  stream, 
here  swarmed  in  myriads  so  thick  that  they  seemed 
to  hang  in  clusters  from  the  boughs ;  and  their  inces- 

295 


POISON    ISLAND 

sant  buzzing  added  to  the  horror  of  the  place  a  hint  of 
something  foul,  sinister,  obscene. 

I  had  a  mind  to  creep  away  on  all-fours,  but  sud- 
denly forgot  my  ankle  and  sprang  erect,  on  the  de- 
fensive, at  the  sound  of  voices.  A  grassy  path  led 
through  the  enclosure,  between  the  graves,  and  at  the 
end  of  it  appeared  two  figures. 

They  were  two  women;  the  first  a  negress,  mon- 
strously ugly  and  tall,  and  a  grenadier,  wearing  a 
frock  of  the  gaudiest  yellow,  and  for  headdress  a  scar- 
let handkerchief  bound  closely  about  her  scalp  and. 
tied  in  front  with  an  immense  bow;  the  other — but 
how  shall  I  describe  the  other  ? 

She  was  white,  and  she  wore  a  dress  of  fresh  white 
muslin;  a  short  dress,  tied  about  the  waist  with  a 
pale  blue  sash,  and  above  the  shoulders  with  narrow 
ribbons  of  the  same  color.  Her  figure  was  that  of  a 
girl ;  her  ringlets  hung  loose  like  a  girl's.  She  walked 
with  a  girlish  step;  and  until  she  came  close  I  took 
her  for  a  girl  of  sixteen  or  seventeen. 

Then,  with  a  shock,  I  found  myself  staring  into 
the  face,  which  might  well  belong  to  a  woman  be- 
tween sixty  and  seventy,  so  faded  it  was  and  retic- 
ulated wuth  wrinkles;  and  into  a  pair  of  eyes  that 
wavered  between  ingenuousness  and  a  childish  cun- 
ning; and  from  them  down  to  her  slim  ankles  and 
a    pair    of   dancing-shoes   so   fairy-like   and    dimin- 

296 


THE    WOMEN    m    THE    GRAVEYARD 

utive  that  they  seemed  scarcely  to  press  the  grass  un- 
derfoot. 

The  two  women  had  dra^^^l  to  a  halt,  while  I  stood 
uncertain  whether  to  brave  them  or  make  a  bid  for 
escape.  I  heard  the  negress  cry  aloud  in  a  foreign 
tongue,  at  the  same  time  flinging  up  her  hands ;  but 
the  other  pushed  past  her  and  walked  straight  down 
upon  me,  albeit  with  a  mincing,  tripping  motion,  as 
if  she  were  pacing  a  dance. 

Twice  she  spoke,  and  in  two  different  languages 
(as  I  recognized,  though  able  to  make  nothing  of 
either),  and  then,  halting  before  me,  she  tried  me 
with   English. 

"  Boy  " — she  looked  at  me  inquiringly — "  what 
you  do  here — will  you  tell  ?  " 

"  I  come  from  the  ship,  ma'am,"  said  I,  finding 
my  tongue. 

"  The  sheep  ?  He  bring  a  sheep  ?  But  why  ? — and 
why  he  bring  you  ?  " 

I  stared  at  her,  not  understanding.  "  Ma'am," 
said  I,  pointing  over  my  shoulder,  "  we  came  here  in 
a  ship — a  schooner ;  and  she  is  lying  in  the  creek  yon- 
der. I  landed  and  climbed  up  through  the  woods.  On 
my  way  I  found  this." 

I  held  out  the  paper  boat.  She  caught  it  out  of  my 
hand  with  a  sharp  cry.  But  the  black  woman,  at  the 
same  instant  turned  on  her  and  began  to  scold  her 

297 


POISOX    ISLAND 

volublv.  Tlio  words  were  miintcllisrible  to  me,  but 
her  tone,  full  of  angry  remonstrance,  could  not  be 
mistaken. 

"  I  am  not  sorry/'  said  the  white  woman,  speaking 
in  Englisli,  with  a  glance  at  me.  "  No,  I  do  not  care 
for  his  orders.  It  was  by  this  that  you  came  to  me  ?  " 
she  asked,  turning  to  me  again,  and  pointing  minc- 
ingly  at  the  paper. 

"  I  found  it  in  the  stream,"  I  replied;  "almost  a 
mile  below  this." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  you  found  it  in  the  stream.  And  you 
opened  it,  and  read  the  writing  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head.  "  The  waiting,  ma'am,  was  blot- 
ted— I  could  read  nothing." 

"  Not  even  my  little  song  ?  "  She  peered  into  the 
pai:>er,  threw  up  her  head  and  piped  a  note  or  two,  for 
all  the  world  as  a  bird  chirrups,  lifting  his  bill,  after 
taking  a  drink.  "  La-la-la — you  did  not  understand, 
hey  ?  But,  nevertheless,  you  came,  and  of  3'our  own 
will.  He  did  not  bring  you  ?  "  I  shook  my  head 
again,  having  no  clew  to  her  meaning. 

"  So  best,"  she  said,  changing  her  tone  of  a  sudden 
to  one  of  extreme  gravity.  "  For  if  he  found  you 
here — here  of  all  places — he  would  kill  you.  Yes  " 
— she  nodded  impressively — "  for  sure  he  would  kill 
you.    He  kill  all  these." 

She  waved  a  hand,  indicating  the  grave-mounds. 

298 


THE    WOMExNT    IX    THE    GRAVEYARD 

Her  voice,  at  these  dreadful  words,  ran  up  to  an  al- 
most more  dreadful  airiness;  and  still  she  continued 
nodding,  but  now  with  a  sort  of  simpering  pride. 
"  All  these,"  she  repeated,  waving  her  hand  again 
towards  the  mounds. 

"  Did  you  see  him  kill  them  ?  "  I  asked,  wondering 
who  "  he  "  might  he^,  and  scarcely  knowing  what  I 
said. 

"  Some,"  she  answered,  with  a  final  nod  and  a 
glance  of  extreme  childish  cunning.  "  But  why  you 
not  talking,  Rosa  ?  "  she  demanded,  turning  on  the 
negress.  "  You  speak  English ;  it  is  no  use  to  pre- 
tend." 

The  black  woman  stared  at  me  for  a  moment  from 
under  her  loose-hanging  lids. 

"  You  go  'way,"  she  said  slowly.  "  You  get  no 
good  in  these  parts." 

"  Very  well,  ma'am,"  said  I,  steadying  my  voice, 
"  and  the  sooner  the  better,  if  you  will  kindly  tell  me 
the  shortest  cut  back  to  the  creek." 

" And"  the  woman  went  on,  not  seeming  to  heed 
the  interruption,  "  you  tell  the  same  to  your  friends, 
that  they  get  no  good  in  these  parts.  But  of  us — and 
of  this  " — she  pointed  to  the  sodden  paper  which  she 
had  snatched  from  her  mistress's  hands — "  you  will 
say  nothing.    It  might  bring  mischief." 

"Mischief?"    I  echoed. 

299 


POISOIs^    ISLAND 

"  Mischief — upon  her^ 

"  But  this  is  nonsense  you  talk,  Rosa !  "  broke  in 
the  little  lady.  "  At  the  most,  what  have  I  written  ? 
— a  little  song  from  Gliick,  the  divine  Gliick!  Just 
a  little  song  of  Eurydice  calling  to  Orfeo.  Ah !  you 
should  have  heard  me  sing  it — in  the  days  before  my 
voice  left  me ;  in  the  opera,  boy,  and  the  King  himself 
splitting  his  gloves  to  applaud  us !  Eh,  but  you  are 
young,  very  young.  I  should  not  wonder  to  hear  you 
were  born  after  I  left  the  stage.  And  you  are  pretty, 
but  not  old  enough  to  be  Orfeo  yet.  I  must  wait — I 
must  wait,  though  I  wait  till  I  doubt  if  I  am  not 
changed  to  Proserpine  with  her  cracked  voice.  Boy, 
if  I  kissed  you " 

She  advanced  a  step,  but  the  negress  caught  her 
by  the  wrist  violently,  at  the  same  moment  waving 
me  off.  I  felt  faint  and  giddy,  as  though  some  ex- 
halation from  the  graveyard — not  wholly  repellent, 
but  sickly,  overpowering,  like  the  scent  of  a  hothouse 
lily — had  been  suddenly  wafted  under  my  nostrils. 
I  fell  back  a  pace  as  the  negress  motioned  me  away. 
Her  hand  pointed  across  the  stream,  and  across  the 
meadow,  to  the  gap  in  the  ridge. 

"  Fast  as  you  can  run,"  she  panted ;  "  and  never 
come  this  way  again." 

The  strong  scent  yet  hung  around  me  and  seemed 
to  bind  me  like  a  spell,  pressing  on  my  arms  and  legs. 

GOO 


THE    WOMEX    IN    THE    GRAVEYARD 

I  plunged  knee-deep  into  the  stream.  The  cool  touch 
of  the  water  brought  me  to  my  senses.  I  splashed 
across,  waded  up  the  bank,  and  set  off  running 
towards  the  gap. 


301 


CHAPTER    XXVII 


THE    MAN    IN    BLACK 


Before  ever  I  gained  the  gap  I  was  panting,  and 
as  I  panted  the  blood  ran  into  my  month  from  a  deep 
scratch  across  the  eyebrows.  I  tasted  it  as  I  ran. 
My  shirt  hnng  in  strips,  and  one  stocking  flapped 
open  on  a  rip  from  knee  to  ankle.  But  from  the  gap 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  shining  waters  of  the  creek. 
I  flung  myself  and  fell  through  the  matted  ferns  that, 
veiling  the  trough  of  a  half-dry  w^atercourse,  now 
checked  my  descent  as  I  clutched  at  them,  now  parted 
and  let  me  drop  and  bruise  myself  on  the  rocky  bot- 
tom. In  the  end  I  slid  over  a  low  cliff  and  lay  pant- 
ing on  the  soft  sand  of  the  foreshore ;  bloodied  indeed 
— for  I  had  taken  a  hard  knock  on  the  bridge  of  the 
nose — but  with  a  wrenched  shoulder  and  a  jarred 
knee-pan  for  the  Avorst  of  my  Inirts.  I  valued  them 
nothing  in  comparison  with  the  terrors  left  behind 
in  the  woods.  The  schooner  lay  in  sight,  scarcely 
half  a  mile  below,  and  I  sobbed  with  gratitude  as  I 
rose  and  dipped  my  face  in  the  tide  and  washed  off 
its  bloodstains. 

302 


THE    MAA^    IX    BLACK 

The  tide  was  still  at  floodj  and  wanted  (as  I 
guessed)  less  than  an  hour  of  high  water;  but  it  left 
an  almost  continuous  stretch  of  sand  between  me  and 
the  creekhead^  and  I  found  that  the  short  intervals 
where  it  narrowed  to  nothing  could  be  easily  waded. 
At  first,  the  curve  of  the  foreshore  and  the  overhang- 
ing woods  concealed  the  spit  of  beach  where  I  had 
made  fast  my  punt  beside  the  dinghy;  but  at  the 
corner  which  brought  the  boats  in  sight  I  was  aware 
of  two  figures  standing  beside  them — Captain  Brans- 
come  and  Mr.  Rogers. 

I  walked  forward  hardily  enough ;  I  had  drunk  my 
fill  of  terror,  and  could  have  faced  the  captain  cheer- 
fully, had  he  been  thrice  as  formidable.  Hg  did  not 
help  me  at  all,  either,  but  stood  with  a  thunderous 
frown,  very  quiet  and  self-restrained,  while  I  plodded 
my  way  up  to  him,  over  the  sand. 

I  think  that,  as  I  drew  close,  my  battered  appear- 
ance must  have  shocked  him  a  little.  But  his  frown 
did  not  relax,  and  the  muscles  of  his  mouth  grew,  if 
anything,  tenser. 

"  You  appear  to  have  been  in  the  wars,"  he  said 
quietly.   "  Has  anything  happened  to  the  schooner  ?  " 

"  ITo,  sir ;  at  least  not  to  my  knowledge,"  was  my 
answer;  and  he  must  have  expected  it,  or  he  would 
have  shown  more  perturbation.  "  I  saw  her,  not  five 
minutes  ago,  lying  at  her  moorings,"  I  added,  with  a 

803 


POISON    ISLAXD 

nod  towards  the  bend  of  the  creek  which  hid  her 
from  us, 

"  Then  why  has  Miss  Belcher  sent  you  ?  " 

"  She  did  not  send  me,  sir." 

"  In  other  words,  you  have  chosen  to  disobey 
orders  ? " 

I  suppose  he  read  some  sullenness  in  my  attitude, 
for  he  repeated  the  words  sharply,  in  a  tone  that  de- 
manded an  answer. 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir ;  but  all  the  same,  it  didn't  seem 
fair  to  me  to  be  left  on  board  without  being  con- 
sulted." 

I  heard  him  take  a  short  breath,  as  though  my 
impudence  hit  him  in  the  wind.  For  full  half  a 
minute  he  eyed  me  slowly  up  and  do\vn. 

"  Get  into  your  boat,  sir,  and  return  to  the  ship 
at  once !  Mr.  Rogers,  this  child  is  impossible.  I 
must  do  what  I  would  gladly  have  avoided,  and  ask 
the  ladies  to  give  me  more  authority  over  him,  since 
they  will  not  exercise  it  themselves." 

At  the  implied  sneer — and  perhaps  even  more  at 
the  tone  of  it,  so  foreign  to  the  Captain  Branscome 
that  I  knew — I  blazed  up  wrathfully. 

"  If  you  mean  by  that,"  said  I,  "  to  threaten  me 
with  the  rope's-end,  I  advise  you  to  try  it.  And  if 
you  mean  that  I'm  child  enough  to  be  tied  to  the 
apron-strings  of  a  couple  of  women,  that's  just  of  a 

304 


THE    ]S£AN    IN    BLACK 

piece  with  the  whole  mistake  you're  making.     No 
one's  disputing  your  right  to  give  orders " 

"  Thank  you,"  he  put  it  sarcastically. 

"  — to  those,"  I  went  on,  "  who  appointed  you 
captain.  But  I  wasn't  consulted,  and  until  that  hap- 
pens, I  shall  obey  or  not,  as  I  choose." 

Now  this,  no  doubt,  was  extremely  childish,  even 
wickedly  foolish,  and  the  more  foolish,  perhaps,  be- 
cause a  few  minutes  ago  I  would  have  given  all  I 
possessed,  including  my  prospective  share  in  the 
treasure,  for  Captain  Branscome's  protection.  But 
somehow,  since  sighting  the  island,  I  had  lost  hold  of 
myself,  and  my  temper  seemed  to  be  running  all 
askew.  Strange  to  tell,  the  Captain  appeared  to  be 
affected  in  much  the  same  way. 

"  Why,  you  little  fool,"  said  he,  "  are  you  mis- 
taking this  for  a  picnic  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  retorted ;  "  I  am  not.  And  if  you'll  re- 
member, it  wasn't  I  who  led  the  ladies  to  look  for- 
ward to  one." 

He  planted  himself  before  me,  and  said  he,  looking 
at  me  sternly :  "  See  here,  my  boy,  I  don't  want  to 
make  unpleasantness,  and  if  you  force  me  to  appeal 
to  the  whole  ship's  company,  you  know  very  well  you 
will  find  yourself  in  a  minority  of  one." 

"  I  don't  care  for  that,  sir.  You'll  be  acting  un- 
fairly, all  the  same." 

305 


POISOX    ISLAXD 


ii. 


We'll  let  that  pass.  You  tell  me,  here  in  the  act 
of  breaking  ship,  that  you're  of  an  age  to  be  con- 
sulted. Well,  you  shall  have  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 
You  want  to  know,  then,  why  I'm  careful  about  let- 
ting you  run  ashore  ?  What  would  you  say,  if  I  told 
you  the  island  has  people  upon  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  first  of  all,  sir,  that  if  you  found  it  out 
before  dropping  anchor,  it  seems  strange  —  your 
going  ashore  with  Mr.  Rogers  and  leaving  the  rest 
to  take  care  of  themselves.  But  if  you've  discovered 
it  since 

"  I  have  not.  But  as  we  were  running  down  the 
coast  I  saw  something  through  my  glasses — a  coil  of 
smoke  beyond  the  hills  on  the  eastern  side.  Now  if, 
as  seems  certain,  this  fire  w^as  lit  by  human  beings, 
it  almost  stands  to  reason  they  must  have  sighted  our 
ship.  !N^ext  comes  the  question :  Why  did  I  go  ashore 
and  take  Mr.  Rogers  ?  Well,  in  the  first  place,  we 
didn't  come  here  to  lie  at  anchor  and  sail  away  again ; 
and  if  the  island  happened  to  be  inhabited  (which 
seems  certain),  and  by  people  who  don't  want  us 
(which  is  by  no  means  so  certain,  though  we  must 
remember  that  it  holds  treasure),  why,  then,  the 
sooner  we  nipped  ashore  and  prospected,  the  better. 
For  the  spot  where  I  sighted  the  smoke  must  lie 
a  good  five  miles  from  here  as  the  crow  flies,  and  by 
the  shape  of  the  hills  and  the  amount  of  scrub  be- 

306 


THE    MAX    IX    BLACK 

tween  'em,  those  five  miles  must  be  equal  to  fifteen. 
But  why  (say  you)  did  I  take  Mr.  Rogers  ?    I  took 

Mr.  Rogers,  after  consulting  with  Miss  Belcher " 

"  Does  she  know  there  are  people  on  the  island  ?  " 
"  She  does.  I  took  Mr.  Rogers  because,  if  danger 
there  be,  it  seemed  likelier  we  should  find  it  ashore 
than  on  board  the  schooner ;  and  because,  as  the 
shortest  way  to  make  sure  if  these  strangers  were 
after  our  treasure,  we  had  agreed  to  make  straight  for 
the  clump  of  trees  described  on  the  back  of  the  chart 
and  examine  whether  the  ground  thereabouts  had 
been  visited  lately  or  disturbed;  and,  further,  be- 
cause our  search  might  require  more  strength  and 
agility  than  I  alone,  with  my  lame  leg,  could  com- 
mand. I  felt  pretty  easy  about  the  schooner.  She 
can  only  be  attacked  by  boat,  and  I  searched  the  coast 
pretty  narrowly  on  our  way  down  without  sighting 
one.  If  these  men  possess  a  boat,  she  probably  lies 
somewhere  on  the  eastern  side,  not  far  from  their 
camp  fire.  If  she  lies  nearer,  it  must  be  somewhere 
under  the  cliffs  to  the  south,  in  which  case  her  owti- 
ers  would  have  a  long  journey  to  reach  her,  and  that 
journey  must  take  them  around  the  head  of  the  creek 
here.  But  (say  you)  there  may  be  two  parties  on 
the  island — one  by  the  camp  fire  northward,  and 
another  under  the  south  shore.  I'll  grant  this, 
though  I  think  it  unlikely ;  but  even  so,  to  attack  the 

307 


POTSOX    ISLAND 

schooner  they  must  bring  their  boat  up  the  whole 
length  of  the  entrance,  where  our  people  would  have 
her  in  view  for  at  least  two  miles.  This  would  give 
ample  time  for  a  signal  to  recall  us,  and  on  the 
chance  of  it  I  left  Goodfellow  in  charge  of  two  rock- 
ets with  instructions  to  touch  them  off  at  a  hint  of 
danger." 

"  Oh,  oh !  "  said  I.  "  So  Mr.  Goodfellow,  too, 
knew  of  this  ?  And  Plinny,  I  suppose  ?  And,  in 
fact,  you  told  every  one  but  me  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Captain  Branscome  gravely ;  "  I 
did  not  trouble  Miss  Plinlimmon  with  these  perhaps 
unnecessary  fears.  To  a  ladv  of  her  sensitive  na- 
ture " 

"  Oh,  well,  sir/'  I  interrupted  and,  turning  aside 
pettishly,  began  to  haul  my  cockboat  down  to  the 
Avater,  "since  you  choose  to  treat  me  like  a  baby  of 
six,  I  suppose  it's  no  wonder  you  take  Plinny  for  a 
timorous  old  fool." 

"  Sir !  "  exploded  Captain  Branscome,  and  glanc- 
ing back  over  my  shoulder  I  saw  him  leaning  on  his 
stick  and  fairly  trembling  with  wrath.  "  This  disre- 
spectful language !  And  of  a  lady  for  whom — for 
whom " 

"  Disrespect  ?  "  —  I  whistled.  "  Is  it  worse  to 
speak  disrespect  or  to  act  it  ?  I  have  known  Plinny 
for  years — you  for  a  month  or  two ;  and  one  of  these 

308 


THE    MAX    IN    BLACK 

days,  if  this  expedition  gets  into  a  mess — as  it  likely 
will  with  such  handling  —  that  sensitive  lady  will 
make  you  see  stars." 

I  knew,  while  I  uttered  it,  that  my  speech  was 
abominably  ill-conditioned;  that  Captain  Branscome 
had,  in  fact,  been  holding  out  the  olive  branch,  and 
that  in  common  decency  I  ought  to  have  caught  at  it. 
Tn  short,  I  felt  my  boyish  temper  going  from  bad  to 
worse,  and  yet,  somehow,  that  I  could  not  apply  the 
brake  to  it. 

"  Why,  confound  the  boy !  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Rog- 
ers. "  What  ever  bee  has  stung  him  ?  "  And  grip- 
ping me  by  the  shoulder  as  I  heaved  at  the  boat,  he 
swung  me  round  to  face  him.  "  Look  here,  young 
Harry  Brooks !  Do  you  happen  to  be  sickening  for 
something,  that  you  talk  like  a  gutter-snipe  to  a 
gentleman  old  enough  to  be  your  grandfather  ?  Or, 
damme,  have  you  and  Goodfellow  been  coming  to 
blows  ?  Bv  the  nose  of  vou  and  the  state  of  vour 
shirt  a  man  would  say  you've  come  from  a  street 
fight ;  and,  by  your  talk,  that  your  head  was  knocked 
silly." 

"  It's  all  very  well,  Mr.  Rogers,"  said  I  sulkily, 
"  and  I  know  I  oughtn't  to  have  spoken  like  that,  but 
I  hate  to  be  tyrannized  over.  That's  why  I  didn't 
take  your  warning  first  along  and  pull  back  to  the 
ship — though  I  thank  you  for  it  all  the  same." 

309 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  ]\Ir.  Rogers.  "  My  warning  ?  What 
in  thunder  is  the  boy  talking  about  ?  " 

"  When  you  saw  me  sculling  for  shore,  here,  about 
an  hour  ago,"  I  explained,  "  you  pretended  not  to  see 
me,  and  went  after  Captain  Branscome ;  but  I  saw 
you,  fast  enough,  standing  on  the  bank  yonder,  under 
the  trees." 

"  For  a  certainty  the  child  is  mad !  "  Mr.  Rogers 
stared  at  me  round-eyed.  "  /  saw  you  ?  I  pretended 
not  to  ?  Why,  man  alive,  from  the  time  we  left  the 
ship  I  never  set  eyes  on  you  (how  should  I?),  nor 
ever  guessed  you  were  ashore  till  we  came  back  and 
found  your  boat  beside  the  dinghy.  And  as  for 
standing  under  those  trees,  I  was  never  on  the  bank 
there  for  one  second — no,  nor  for  the  half  of  one. 
The  Captain  and  I  walked  around  the  spit  together — 
the  tide  has  covered  our  footmarks  or  I  could  show 
'em  to  you." 

"  At  any  rate  there  was  a  man,"  I  persisted. 
"  And  he  couldn't  have  been  the  Captain  either,  for 
he  was  wearing  dark  clothes " 

"  The  devil !  I  say,  Branscome,  listen  to 
this " 

"  I  am  listening,"  answered  the  Captain  gravely, 
taking,  as  he  stepped  forward,  a  long  look  at  the  bank 
above  lis  and  at  the  dense  forest  to  right  and  left. 
"  Did  you  see  the  man's  face,  Harry  ?  " 

310 


THE    MAX    IN    BLACK 

"  No,  sir,  or  I  should  not  have  mistaken  him  for 
Mr.  Kogers.  He  was  standing  there,  under  the 
boughs,  and  seemed  to  be  looking  through  them  and 
watching  me.  I  was  sculling  the  boat  along  with  a 
paddle  slipped  in  the  stern  notch,  and  he  let  me  come 
pretty  close  —  I  couldn't  have  been  two  hundred 
yards  away — ^^vhen  he  slipped  to  the  back  of  the  trees, 
and  I  lost  him." 

"  You  didn't  see  him  again  ?  " 
"  No,  sir ;  I  didn't  land  just  at  once.  I  had  a 
mind  at  first  to  put  about  and  row  to  the  schooner, 
thinking  that  Mr.  Eogers  had  meant  it  for  a  hint. 
When  I  brought  the  boat  ashore,  five  minutes  later, 
he  was  gone." 

"  Which  way  did  you  take,  then  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  mean  any  longer  to  hide  from  you,  sir. 

I  went   straight   after  you,  up  the  waterfalls,  but 

couldn't  find  any  trace  of  you  except  at  one  spot  just 

beside  a  waterfall — the  fourth,  it  was — where  some 

one  had  slipped  a  foot " 

"  Mr.  Rogers,"  the  Captain  interrupted,  "  we  had 
best  get  back  to  the  '  Espriella '  with  all  speed.  I 
may  tell  you,  Harry,  that  we  never  went  up  by  the 
waterfalls  at  all.  It  was  a  climb,  and  my  half-pay 
leg  didn't  like  the  look  of  it.  In  fact  we've  spent  our 
afternoon  in  a  wild-goose  chase  among  the  woods  to 
the  right.     But  jump  into  your  boat,  boy,  and  pull 

311 


POISON    ISLAND 

ahead  of  us.  You  and  I  must  do  a  little  serious  talk- 
ing later  on." 

We  pulled  back  briskly  for  the  "  Espriella  "  and 
reached  her  just  as  she  began  to  swing  with  the  turn 
of  the  tide.  As  we  drew  close — the  cockboat  leading 
— I  glanced  over  my  shoulder  and  spied  Plinny  lean- 
ing against  the  bulwarks  by  the  starboard  quarter,  in 
the  attitude  of  one  gently  enjoying  the  sunset  scene ; 
but  at  the  sight  of  my  torn  shirt  all  her  composure 
left  her^  and  she  came  running  to  the  accommodation 
ladder,  where  she  met  me  with  a  string  of  agitated 
questions. 

"  Excuse  me,  ma'am,"  said  Captain  Branscome  as 
the  dinghy  fell  alongside  and  he  climbed  on  deck. 
"  I  have  no  wish  to  alarm  you,  and,  indeed,  there 
may  be  no  cause  at  all  for  alarm.  But  Harry  has 
brought  us  somewhat  serious  news.  He  reports  that 
there  is  a  man —  a  stranger — on  the  island." 

"  How  could  Harry  have  known  ?  "  was  Plinny's 
unexpected  response. 

"  He  is  confident  that  he  saw  a  man,  somewhat 
more  than  an  hour  since,  standing  at  the  head  of  the 
creek." 

"  Now,  that  is  very  curious,"  said  Plinny ;  "  for 
the  gentleman  told  me  he  had  borrowed  Plarry's  boat 
without  being  observed." 

"  I — I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am  !  "  Captain  Brans- 

312 


THE    MAN    IN    BLACK 

come  stared   about  him.      "  A  gentleman,   did  you 

say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  such  distinguished  manners !  He  left 
a  message  for  you — and,  dear  me,  you  should  have 
heard  how  he  praised  my  coffee !  " 


313 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

THE    MASTER    OF    THE    ISLAND 

But  here,  as  Captain  Branscome  leaned  back  and 
canght  feebly  at  the  main  rigging  for  support,  there 
appeared  above  the  after-companion  (like  a  cogni- 
zance above  an  escutcheon)  a  bent  forearm,  the  hand 
grasping  a  beaver  hat.  It  was  presently  followed  by 
the  head  of  Miss  Belcher,  who  nodded  cheerfully, 
blinking  a  little  in  the  level  light  of  the  sunset. 

"  Hallo !  "  said  she,  addressing  Plinny,  while  she 
adjusted  the  hat  upon  her  brow.  "  Have  you  been 
telling  the  Captain  about  our  visitor  ?  " 

"  Miss  Plinlimmon,  ma'am,  has  given  me  a  shock, 
and  I  won't  deny  it,"  answered  the  Captain,  recover- 
ing himself. 

Miss  Belcher  continued  to  nod  like  a  china  man- 
darin. "  I  don't  wonder,"  she  agreed.  "  For  my 
part,  you  miglit  liave  knocked  me  down  with  a 
feather.  The  fellow  came  down  the  creek,  cool  as 
you  please,  and  pulling  a  nice  easy  stroke,  in  Harry's 

311 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    ISLAKD 

cockboat.  Where  is  Harry,  by  the  way  ?  " — her  eyes 
lit  and  fastened  upon  me — "  Good  Lord !  what  have 
you  been  doing  to  the  child  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  ma'am.  He  has  been  exploring,  and 
lost  his  way ;  that's  all." 

"  H'm !  he  seems  to  have  lost  it  pretty  badly.  Well, 
he  deserved  it.  But,  as  I  was  saying,  along  comes  my 
gentleman,  pulling  with  just  the  easy  jerk  which  is 
the  way  to  make  a  boat  of  that  sort  travel.  Good- 
fellow  was  keeping  Avatch.  They  say  that  a  sailor  will 
recognize  a  boat  half  a  mile  farther  off  than  he'll 
recognize  the  man  in  it ;  but  Goodfellow  isn't  a  sailor, 
so  that  explanation  won't  fit.  We'll  say  that  he  was 
prepared  for  the  boat  returning,  but  not  to  find  an 
entire  stranger  pulling  her.  At  all  events,  he  let  her 
come  within  a  couple  of  gunshots  before  calling  down 
to  the  cabin  and  giving  the  alarm.  I  had  my  legs  up 
on  a  locker,  and  was  taking  a  siesta  over  a  book — 
'  Parkinson  On  The  Dog  ' — and,  by  the  way,  we 
were  a  set  of  fools  not  to  bring  a  dog ;  but  I  ran  up  the 
companion  in  a  jiffy,  and  had  the  sense  to  catch  up 
your  spyglass  as  I  went.  Goodfellow  by  this  time  had 
begun  to  dance  about  the  deck  in  a  flutter.  He  had 
the  tinder-box  in  his  hand,  and  wanted  to  know  if  he 
should  touch  off  a  rocket.  I  ordered  him  to  drop  it, 
and  fetch  me  a  musket,  which  he  did.  By  this  time 
I  could  see  that  the  man  in  the  boat  was  unarmed, 

315 


POISON    JSLAND 

so  I  put  np  the  musket  at  the  '  present/  got  the  sight 
on  him,  and  called  out  to  know  his  business. 

"  The  man  jerked  the  cockboat  round  with  her 
stern  to  the  schooner — these  boats  come  right-about 
with  a  single  twist — and  says  he,  very  politely  lifting 
his  hat,  '  You'll  pardon  me,  ma'am,  but  (as  you  see) 
I  have  borrowed  your  young  friend's  boat.  My  own 
was  not  handy,  and  this  seemed  the  quickest  way  to 
pay  my  respects.  '  '  Indeed  ? '  said  I,  *  and  who  may 
you  be  ? '  '  My  name,  ma'am,'  said  he,  '  is  Beaure- 
gard— Dr.  Beauregard.'  ^  I  never  heard  of  you,'  said 
I.  '  That,  ma'am,  is  entirely  my  misfortune,'  said 
he,  lifting  his  hat  again ;  '  but  allow  me  to  say  that  I 
am  the  proprietor  of  this  island,  and  very  much  at 
your  service.' 

"  Well,  this  was  a  facer.  It  never  occurred  to  any 
of  us — eh  ? — that  this  island  might  have  an  owner. 
To  tell  the  truth,  I'm  stickler  enough  for  the  rights  of 
property  at  home ;  but  somehow  the  notion  of  an 
island  like  this  belonging  to  any  one  had  never  en- 
tered my  head.  Yet  the  thing  is  reasonable  enougli 
when  you  come  to  think  it  over;  and,  of  course,  I 
saw  that  it  put  an  entirely  different  complexion  upon 
our  business  here." 

"  My  dear  Lydia,"  put  in  Mr.  Rogers,  impatiently, 
"  the  man's  claim  must  be  absurd.  Why,  the  island 
is  right  in  the  tropics !  " 

31G 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    ISLAND 

"  You  wouldn't  have  thought  it  a  bit  absurd  if  you 
had  heard  him,"  retorted  Miss  Belcher.  "  He  ap- 
peared to  be  quite  sure  of  his  ground.  Quite  pleasant 
about  it,  too,  he  was;  said  that  few  visitors  ever  hon- 
ored his  out-of-the-way  home,  but  that  as  soon  as  any 
arrived  he  always  made  it  a  matter  of — of  punctilio 
(yes,  that  was  the  word)  to  put  off  and  bid  them  wel- 
come. He  spoke  with  the  slightest  possible  foreign 
accent,  but  used  admirable  English;  and,  I  don't 
know  why,"  wound  up  Miss  Belcher,  ingenuously, 
"  but  he  seemed  to  divine  from  the  first  that  I  was 
English." 

"  And  it  wasn't  as  if  we  had  come  here  flaunting 
British  colors,"  added  Plinny. 

"  But  what  sort  of  man  was  he  ?  "  asked  the  Cap- 
tain. 

"  Height,  six  foot  two  or  three  in  his  stockings ; 
age,  about  sixty;  face,  clean  shaven  and  fleshy,  but 
the  features  extraordinary  powerful ;  hair,  jet  black, 
and  dyed  (if  at  all)  by  a  process  that  would  make  his 
fortune  if  he  sold  the  secret ;  clothes,  black  alpaca  and 
well  cut,  with  silk  stockings  that  would  be  cheap  at 
two  guineas,  and  shoes  with  gold  buckles  on  'em.  I 
couldn't  take  my  eyes  off — no  display  about  'em — and 
yet  I  doubt  if  King  Louis  of  France  ever  wore  the 
like  before  they  cut  his  head  off.  Complexion,  pale 
for  this  climate,  with  a  sort  of  silvery  shine  about  it. 

317 


POISOX    ISLAND 

Manner  charming,  voice  charming,  bearing  fit  for  a 
grand  seigneur ;  and  that's  what  he  is,  or  something 
like  it,  unless,  as  I  rather  incline  to  suspect,  he's  the 
biggest  scoundrel  unhung." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Belcher !  "  protested  Plinny.  "  When 
you  agreed  with  me  that  he  might  have  sat  for  a  por- 
trait of  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school !  " 

"  Tut,  my  dear !  When  I  saw  that  you  had  lost 
your  heart  to  him  as  soon  as  he  set  foot  on  deck  !  Did 
I  say  '  of  the  old  school '  ?  Yes,  indeed,  and  of  the 
very  oldest ;  and,  in  fact,  quite  possibly  the  Old  Gen- 
tleman himself." 

Xow,  either  I  had  spoiled  Captain  Branscome's 
temper  for  the  day,  or  something  in  this  speech  of 
Miss  Belcher's  especially  rasped  it. 

"  But  who  is  this  man  ?  "  he  demanded,  in  a  sharp, 
authoritative  voice. 

Miss  Belcher  stepped  back  half  a  pace.  I  saw  her 
chin  go  up,  and  it  seemed  to  grow  square  as  she  an- 
swered him  with  a  dangerous  coldness. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  thought  I  told  you  that  he 
gave  his  name  as  Dr.  Beauregard." 

"  You  had  no  business,  ma'am,  to  allow  him  on 
board  this  ship." 

"  No  business  ?  " 

"  No  business,  ma'am.  I  have  just  been  having 
words  with  young  Harry,  here,  over  his  disobedience 

318 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    ISLAXD 

tliis  afternon ;  but  this  is  infinitely  more  serious.  We 
are  here  to  search  for  treasure.  We  no  sooner  drop 
anchor  than  a  man  visits  us,  who  claims  that  the 
island  is  his.  This  at  once  presupposes  his  claim 
upon  any  treasure  that  may  be  hidden  upon  it,  and 
consequently  that,  as  soon  as  he  discovers  our  pur- 
pose, he  will  be  our  enemy.  It  follows,  I  should  im- 
agine, that  of  all  steps  the  most  fatal  was  to  admit 
him  on  board  to  discover  our  weakness." 

"  Our  weakness,  sir  ?  "  asked  Miss  Belcher  care- 
lessly, as  though  but  half  attending. 

"  Our  weakness,  ma'am ;  as  it  was  doubtless  to  dis- 
cover our  weakness  that  he  came." 

"  l^ow,  I  rather  thought,"  murmured  Miss  Bel- 
cher, "  that  Miss  Plinlimmon  and  I  had  spent  a  great 
part  of  this  afternoon  in  impressing  him  with  our 
strength." 

"  To  be  sure,"  pursued  Captain  Branscome,  "  with 
such  a  company  as  he  found  on  board,  he  can  scarcely 
have  suspected  a  treasure  hunt.  Still,  when  he  does 
suspect  it — as  sooner  or  later  he  must — he  will  know 
our  weakness." 

"  He  could  scarcelv  have  dealt  with  us  more 
frankly  than  he  did,  at  any  rate,"  said  Miss  Belcher, 
with  an  air  of  simplicity ;  "  for  he  assured  us  he  was 
alone  on  the  island." 

"  And  you  believed  him,  ma'am  ?  " 

319 


POISON    ISLAND 


(I 


I  forget,  sir,  if  I  believed  him ;  but  he  certainly 
knows  that  we  are  here  in  search  of  treasure,  for  I 
told  him  so  myself." 

Captain  Branscome  gasped.  "  You — ^you  told  him 
so  ?  "  he  echoed. 

"  I  did,  and  he  replied  that  it  scarcely  surprised 
him  to  hear  it,  that  of  the  few  vessels  which  found 
their  way  to  Mortallone,  quite  an  appreciable  pro- 
portion came  with  the  same  idea  of  discovering  treas- 
ure. The  proportion,  he  added,  had  fallen  off  of  late 
years,  and  the  most  of  them  nowadays  put  in  to  water, 
but  there  was  a  time  when  the  treasure-seekers  threat- 
ened to  become  a  positive  nuisance.  He  said  this  with 
a  smile  which  disarmed  all  suspicion.  In  fact,  it  was 
impossible  to  take  offence  with  the  man." 

But  at  this  point  Plinny,  frightened  perhaps  by 
the  warnings  of  apoplexy  in  Captain  Branscome's 
face,  laid  a  hand  gently  on  Miss  Belcher's  arm. 

"  Are  we  treating  our  good  friend  quite  fairly  ?  " 
she  asked. 

Miss  Belcher  glanced  at  her  and  broke  into  a  ring- 
ing laugh. 

"  You  dear  creature !  No,  to  be  sure,  we  are 
not;  but  from  a  child  I  always  turned  mischievous 
under  correction.  Captain  Branscome,  I  beg  your 
pardon." 

"  It  is  granted,  ma'am." 

320 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    ISLAND 

"  And — for  I  take  you  to  be  on  the  point  of  resign- 
,ing — here  and  now " 

"  Ma'am,  you  have  guessed  correctly." 

"  I  am  going  to  beg  you  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort. 
'No,  I  am  not  going  to  ask  it  only  as  a  favor,  but  to  ap- 
peal to  your  reason.  You  think  it  extremely  rash  of 
me  to  have  entertained  this  man  and  talked  with  him 
so  frankly  ?  Well,  but  consider.  To  begin  with,  if 
I  had  not  told  him  that  we  were  after  the  treasure, 
he  would  probably  have  guessed  it ;  nay,  I  make  bold 
to  say  that  he  guessed  it  already,  for — I  forgot  to 
mention  it — he  knows  Harry  Brooks." 

"  Knows  me,  ma'am  ?  "  I  cried  out,  as  all  the  com- 
j)any  turned  and  stared  at  me. 

"  He  says  so,  and  that  he  recognized  you  as  you 
were  sculling  up  the  creek." 

"  Knows  me  ?  "  I  echoed.  "  But  who  on  earth  can 
he  be,  then?  Not  —  not  the  man  Aaron  Glass, 
surely  ?  " 

"  I  was  wondering,"  said  ]\[iss  Belcher. 

"  But — but  Aaron  Glass  wasn't  a  bit  like  this  man, 
as  you  make  him  out;  a  thin,  foxy-looking  fellow, 
with  sandy  hair  and  a  face  full  of  wrinkles, 
about  the  middling  height,  with  sloping  shoul- 
ders  " 

"  Then  he  can't  be  Aaron  Glass.  But  whoever  he 
is,  he  knows  you — that's  the  important  point — and 

321 


POISON    ISLAND 

pretty  certainly  connects  you  with  the  treasure.  He 
didn't  seem  to  have  met  Goodfellow  before.  Well, 
now,  if  he  lives  alone  here — which,  I  admit,  is  not 
likely — we  ought  to  be  more  than  a  match  for  him. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  has  men  at  his  call — and  I 
ask  your  particular  attention  here.  Captain — it  was 
surely  no  folly  at  all,  but  the  plainest  common  sense, 
to  admit  him  on  board.  He  will  go  off  and  report  that 
our  ship's  company  consists  of  two  middle-aged 
maiden  ladies  (I  occupied  myself  with  tatting  a 
chair-cover  while  he  conversed);  a  boy;  Mr.  Good- 
fellow  (whatever  he  may  have  made  of  Goodfellow)  ; 
and  two  gentlemen  ashore  to  whose  mental  and  physi- 
cal powers  I  was  careful  to  do  some  injustice.  You 
will  pardon  me,  Captain,  but  I  laid  more  than  war- 
rantable stress  on  your  lameness;  and  as  for  you. 
Jack,  I  depicted  you  as  a  mere  country  booby  " — here 
Mr.  Rogers  bowed  amiably — "  and  added  by  way  of 
confirmation  that  I  had  known  you  from  childhood. 
He  will  go  back  and  report  all  this,  with  the  certain 
consequence  that  he  and  his  confederates  will  mistake 
us  for  a  crew  of  crack-brained  eccentrics." 

When  she  had  done,  the  Captain  stood  considering 
for  a  moment,  rubbing  his  chin. 

"  Yes,"  he  admitted  slowlv,  "  there  seems  reason 
in  that,  ma'am ;  reason  and  method.  But  'tis  a  kind 
of  reason  and  method  outside  all  my  experience,  and 

322 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    ISLAND 

you  must  excuse  me  if  I  get  the  grip  of  it  slowly.  I 
should  like  a  good  look  at  the  man  before  saying 
more," 

"  As  to  that,"  answered  Miss  Belcher,  "  you  won't 
have  long  to  wait  for  it.  He  has  invited  us  all  ashore 
to-morrow,  to  a  picnic.  He  charged  me  to  say — if  he 
did  not  happen  to  run  against  you  as  he  was  return- 
ing the  cockboat — that  he  would  be  at  the  creek-head 
punctually  at  nine-thirty  to  await  us." 

•  •  *  •  * 

Two  hours  later  Captain  Branscome  sent  word  for 
me  to  attend  him  in  his  cabin. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,  Harry  Brooks,"  said  the  old 
man,  turning  away  from  me  while  he  lit  his  pipe, 
"  that  I  have  been  thinking  over  what  happened  this 
afternoon." 

"  I  was  in  the  wrong,  sir." 

"  You  were ;  and  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  ac- 
knowledge it.  ISTow,  what  I  want  to  say  is  this.  Had 
affairs  gone  in  the  least  as  I  expected,  I  should  have 
held  you  to  '  strict  service,'  as  we  used  to  say  on  the 
old  packets.  I  never  tolerated  a  favorite  on  board, 
and  never  shall.  But  these  ladies  don't  make  a  fa- 
vorite of  you ;  that's  not  the  trouble.  The  trouble — 
no,  I  won't  call  it  even  that — is  that  you  and  they  all 
cannot  help  taking  the  bit  between  your  teeth.  It 
don't  appear  to  be  your  fault;  you  weren't  bred  to 

323 


POISOiSr    ISLAND 

the  sea,  and  can't  tumble  to  sea-fashions.  '  So  much 
the  worse/  a  man  might  say.  The  plague  of  it  is,  I 
can't  be  sure ;  and  after  casting  it  up  and  down,  I've 
determined  to  let  you  have  your  way." 

"  You  don't  mean,  sir,  that  you're  going  to  re- 
sign !  "  said  I,  confounded. 

"  ]^o,  I  don't.  Saving  your  objections,  boy,  I  was 
elected  captain,  and  it  don't  do  away  with  my  respon- 
sibility that  I  choose  to  let  discipline  go  to  the  winds. 
If  mischief  comes  I  shall  be  to  blame,  because  I  might 
have  stopped  it  but  didn't." 

I  was  silent.  This  should  have  been  the  time  for 
me  to  tell  what  I  had  discovered  that  afternoon;  of 
the  graveyard  and  the  two  strange  women.  But 
shame  tied  my  tongue.  I  saw  that  this  noble  gentle- 
man, in  imparting  his  thoughts  to  me,  was  really  con- 
descending to  ask  my  pardon;  and  the  injustice  of  it 
was  so  monstrous  that  I  felt  a  delicacy  in  letting  him 
know  the  extent  of  my  unworthiness.  I  temporized, 
and  promised  myself  a  better  occasion. 

"  But  are  you  quite  sure,  sir,  that  yours  was  not 
the  wisest  plan  after  all  ?  " 

"  The  question  is  not  worth  considering,"  he  an- 
swered. "  My  policy — ^you  would  hardly  call  it  a 
plan,  for  it  wholly  depended  on  circumstances — no 
longer  exists.  The  ladies,  you  see,  have  forced  my 
hand." 

324 


THE    MASTEK    OF    THE    ISLAND 

I  forebore  to  tell  him  that  if  the  ladies  had  forced 
his  hand  his  accepting  full  responsibility  was  simply 
quixotic. 

"  She's  a  wonderful  woman,"  said  I,  by  way  of 
filling  up  the  pause. 

"  And  so  womanly  !  "  assented  Captain  Branscome, 
to  my  entire  surprise. 

"  Indeed,  sir  ?  "  I  stammered.  "  Well,  I  have 
heard  people  say — Mr.  Rogers  for  one — that  Miss 
Belcher  ought  to  have  been  born  a  man." 

"  Miss  Belcher  ?  Why,  heavens  alive,  boy,  I  was 
referring  to  Miss  Plinlimmon !  " 

He  dismissed  me  with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  but 
called  back  as  I  turned  to  the  door. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  said  he,  "  I  had  almost  for- 
gotten the  reason  why  I  sent  for  you.  This  man — 
have  you  any  notion  who  he  can  be  ? " 

"  ISTone,  sir." 

"  You've  thought  over  every  possible  person  of 
your  acquaintance  ?  Well  "  —  as  I  nodded  —  we 
shall  know  to-morrow  morning,  if  he  keeps  his  word. 
Mr.  Rogers  has  kindly  undertaken  to  stay  and  look 
after  the  schooner.  He  has  a  sense  of  discipline,  by 
the  way,  has  Mr.  Rogers." 

"  If  you  wish  me,  sir,  to  stay  with  him " 

"  Thank  you,"  he  interrupted  dryly,  "  but  Ave  shall 
need  you  ashore;  in  the    first  place  to  identify  this 

325 


POISON    ISLAND 

mysterious  stranger,  and  also  to  help  protect  the 
ladies.  Their  escort,  Heaven  knows,  is  not  exces- 
sive. We  take  the  gig,  and  if  the  man  fails  to  appear, 
or  brings  even  so  much  as  one  companion,  I  give  the 
word  to  return." 

•  •  •  •  • 

But  these  apprehensions  proved  to  be  groundless. 
As  we  rowed  around  the  bend  next  morning  into  view 
of  the  creek-head  the  man  stood  there  alone,  awaiting 
us.    He  saw  us  at  once  and  lifted  his  hat  in  w^elcome. 

"  Do  you  know  him,  Harry  ?  "  asked  Miss  Belcher. 

"  No,"  said  I,  pretty  confidently,  and  then  — 
"  But,  yes — in  the  garden,  that  evening — the  day  you 
went  up  to  Plymouth  for  the  sale !  " 

"  Eh  ?  The  garden  at  Minden  Cottage  ?  What  on 
earth  was  he  doing  there  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  ma'am — at  least,  I  don't  know.  He 
seemed  to  be  taking  measurements,  and  he  gave  me  a 
guinea.  I  rather  think,  ma'am,  he  was  the  man  that 
attended  the  auction." 

"  You  never  saw  him  until  that  evening  ? " 

"  No." 

"  Nor  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Only  that  once,  ma'am." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Miss  Belcher. 


126 


CHAPTER    XXIX 


A    BOAT    OlSr    THE    BEACH 


As  we  drew  to  shore  the  stranger  stepped  down 
the  beach  and  lifted  his  hat  again, 

"  Welcome,  ladies ;  and  let  me  thank  you  and  all 
your  party  for  this  confidence.  The  boy  here — bless 
my  soul,  how  he  has  grown  in  these  few  months ! — 
the  boy  and  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
before.  Eh,  Harry  Brooks  ?  You  remember  me  ? 
To  the  Captain  I  must  introduce  myself.  Shake 
hands.  Captain  Branscome,  I  am  proud  to  make 
your  acquaintance.  Eh  ?  But  what  is  the  meaning 
of  these  baskets  ?  You  have  brought  your  own  pro- 
visions ?  Come,  Miss  Belcher,  that  is  unkind  of  you 
when  we  agreed — yes,  surely  we  agreed  ? — that  you 
were  to  be  my  guests." 

"  We  were  not  sure,  sir "  began  Miss  Belcher. 

"  That  I  should  keep  my  word  ?  Worse  and 
worse !  Or  possibly  you  distrusted  the  entertain- 
ment of  a  solitary  bachelor  on  a  desert  island  ?  But 
I  must  prove  that  you  did  me  an  injustice."     He 


POISOX    ISLAND 

pointed  to  a  goodly  hamper  on  the  beach  and  to  a 
frail  or  carpenter's  basket  from  which  half  a  dozen 
bottles  protruded  their  necks,  topped  with  red  and 
green  seals.  "  As  proprietor  of  Mortallone — you 
will  forgive  my  laying  stress  on  it — I  may  surely 
claim  the  right  to  do  the  honors.  Stay  a  moment,  my 
good  man,"  he  added,  as  Mr.  Goodfellow  made  a  mo- 
tion to  lift  out  our  own  hamper,  "  Miss  Plinlimmon, 
I  believe,  is  an  admirer  of  natural  scenery,  and,  if 
the  ladies  will  step  ashore  for  a  few  minutes,  there 
is  a  waterfall  above  which  may  reward  her  inspec- 
tion; not  by  any  means,  ma'am,  the  grandest  our 
island  can  show,  yet  charming  in  its  way  and  dis- 
tant but  a  short  five  minutes'  walk.  Captain  Brans- 
come  will  bear  me  out;  and  Harry,  too — yes,  Harry, 
too,  if  I  mistake  not,  visited  it  yesterday." 

He  put  out  a  hand  to  assist  the  ladies  to  disem- 
bark, at  the  same  time  hitching  back  the  gun  on  his 
bandolier. 

"  You  will  excuse  my  having  brought  a  musket. 
You  have  brought  your  own,  I  see.  Quite  right.  I 
carry  it  habitually;  for,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  the 
island  contains  a  few  wild  boars  who  dispute  posses- 
sion with  me.  A  very  few — we  are  not  likely  to  meet 
with  one,  so  the  ladies  may  reassure  themselves ! 
But,  as  T  was  about  to  say,  with  the  Captain's  permis- 
sion we  will  not  unload  here.    Rather,  after  visiting 

328 


A  BOAT  OX  THE  BEACH 

the  waterfall,  I  would  suggest  that  we  row  round  to 
the  eastern  side,  where,  if  I  may  guide  jou,  you  will 
find  choice  of  a  dozen  delightful  spots  for  a  picnic. 
In  this  way,  too,  we  shall  cover  more  ground  and  get 
a  more  general  view  of  the  beauties  of  the  island, 
which,  as  I  dare  say  ray  friend  Harry  discovered  yes- 
terday, is  somewhat  too  thickly  overgrown  for  easy 
travelling." 

The  man's  manner — at  once  frank,  chatty,  and 
easily  polite  —  completely  disconcerted  me,  and  I 
could  see  it  disconcerted  the  Captain.  It  seemed  to 
reduce  the  whole  expedition  to  an  ordinary  picnic; 
and  (more  astonishing  yet)  the  ladies  accepted  it  for 
that.  They  fell  in,  one  on  each  side  of  him,  as  he 
led  the  way  to  the  waterfall,  and  for  a  climax  Miss 
Belcher  shook  out  a  parasol  which  she  had  been  car- 
rying under  her  arm  and  spread  it  above  her  beaver 
hat! 

At  the  waterfall  our  host  surpassed  himself.  The 
landscape  hereabouts  (he  declared)  always  reminded 
him  of  Nicholas  Poussin.  He  would  like  Miss  Plin- 
limmon's  opinion  on  the  rock-drawing  of  Salvator 
Rosa,  a  painter  whom  he  gently  depreciated.  Had 
Miss  Plinlimmon  ever  visited  the  Apennines  ?  He 
plucked  a  few  of  the  ferns  growing  in  the  spray  and 
discoursed  on  them,  comparing  them  with  the  com- 
mon European  polypody.     He  turned  to  music  and 

329 


POISOX    ISLA^^D 

challenged  his  fair  visitors  to  guess  the  note  made  by 
the  falling  water:  it  hummed  on  E  natural,  rising 
now  and  then  bj  something  less  than  a  semitone. 

With  all  this  it  was  not  easy  to  suspect  him  of  act- 
ing, as  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  mistake  him  for 
a  trifler.  His  tall  figure,  his  carriage,  the  fine  pose 
of  his  head,  his  resonant  manly  voice,  all  forbade  it 
no  less  than  did  the  wild  scenery  to  which  he  drew 
our  attention  with  an  easy  proprietary  wave  of  the 
hand,  I  observed  that  Captain  Branscome  listened 
to  him  with  a  puzzled  frown. 

The  waterfall  having  been  duly  admired,  we  re- 
traced our  steps  to  the  shore.  The  gig  carried  a  small 
mast  and  lugsail  and,  the  faint  wind  blowing  fair 
down  the  creek,  the  Captain  suggested  our  hoisting 
them.  I  think  it  annoyed  him  to  find  himself  ap- 
pealing to  Dr.  Beauregard. 

"  By  all  means,"  said  the  Doctor  affably.  "  It 
will  save  labor  till  we  reach  open  water,  when  I  will 
ask  you  to  lower  them.  We  had  best  use  the  paddles 
after  rounding  the  point  to  eastward,  and  keep  close 
inshore.  I  have  my  reasons  for  recommending  this 
— reasons  which  I  shall  be  happy  to  explain  to  you, 
sir,  at  the  proper  time."  Here  lie  bowed  to  Captain 
Branscome. 

Accordingly  we  hoisted  sail,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
opened  the  view  of  the  lower  reach,  with  the  ''  Es- 

330 


A  BOAT  ON  THE  BEACH 

priella  "  swinging  softly  at  her  hawsers,  her  masts 
reflected  on  the  scarcely  rippled  water.  Miss  Belcher 
broke  into  a  laugh  at  sight  of  Mr.  Rogers  wistfully 
eying  us  from  the  deck.  Dr.  Beauregard  echoed  it, 
just  audibly. 

"  Well,  well,  ma'am ;  it  is  hard  upon  Mr.  — 
Rogers,  did  you  tell  me  ?  But  we  must  not  blame  the 
Captain  for  taking  precautions.  A  very  neat  craft, 
Captain,  and  Jamaica-built,  by  the  look  of  her." 

"  We  picked  her  up  at  Savannah-la-Mar,"  an- 
nounced Miss  Belcher. 

"  After  burning  your  boats,  madam  ?  Pardon  me, 
but  I  find  your  frankness  as  admirable  as  it  is 
unexpected.  Moreover,  though  Captain  Branscome 
deprecates  it,  no  policy  could  be  wiser." 

"  I  see  no  reason,  sir,  for  being  less  than  candid 
with  you,"  said  Miss  Belcher.  "  You  know  whence 
Ave  come  and  you  know  why  we  are  here.  How  we 
came  is  a  trifling  matter  in  comparison." 

"  Believe  me,  ma'am,  your  frankness  is  all  in  your 
favor.  I  may  repeat  what  I  told  you  yesterday,  that 
several  expeditions  have  come  to  this  island  seeking 
treasure ;  crews  of  merely  avaricious  men,  mad  with 
greed,  whom  I  have  made  it  my  business  and  my 
amusement  to  baffle.  You,  on  the  contrary,  may 
almost  count  on  my  help;  though  whether  the  treas- 
ure will  do  you  much  good  when  you  have  found  it 

331 


POISON    ISLAND 

is  another  question  altogether.  But  we  are  not  treas- 
ure-seeking just  now,  and  I  shall  grudge  even  the 
pleasure  of  talking  if  it  steal  your  admiration  from 
my  island." 

The  shore  by  which  we  steered  was,  indeed, 
entrancing,  and  grew  yet  more  entrancing  as  we 
rounded  Cape  Fea  and,  downing  sail,  headed  the  gig 
for  the  northeast,  pulling  almost  in  the  shadow  of 
the  cliffs,  for  the  sea  lay  calm  as  a  pond,  and  broke 
in  feeblest  ripples  even  on  the  beaches  recessed  here 
and  there  in  the  chasms.  We  passed  Try-again  Inlet, 
and  our  wonder  grew ;  for  the  cliffs  now  were  mere 
cliffs  no  longer  but  the  bases  of  a  range  of  mountains, 
broken  into  rock  slides  with  matted  vines  like  cur- 
tains overhanging  their  scars ;  and  in  the  water,  ten 
fathoms  deep  below  us,  we  could  watch  the  colored 
fishes  at  play. 

Mr.  Goodfellow  and  I  were  at  the  oars;  and  we 
had  been  pulling,  as  I  judged,  for  something  over  an 
hour,  but  easily,  for  the  tide  could  hardly  be  felt, 
when  Dr.  Beauregard,  who  had  taken  the  tiller, 
steered  us  in  towards  a  beach  which  he  announced  to 
be  the,  perhaps,  very  choicest  in  the  island  for  a 
picnic.  ;:;•..    •     .::  ■• 

Certainly  it  was  a  fairy-like  spot,  with  white  sand 
underfoot,  green  creepers  overhanging,  and  through 
the  creepers  a  rill  of  water  splashing  down  the  cliff ; 

332 


A  BOAT  OX  THE  BEACH 

yet  we  had  passed  at  least  a  dozen  other  beaches, 
which  to  me  had  looked  no  less  inviting. 

"  We  will  leave  the  ladies  to  unpack  the  hampers/' 
said  Dr.  Beauregard.  "  I  speak  as  a  bachelor,  but  in 
my  experience  there  is  a  half-hour  before  lunch  in 
which  that  man  is  best  appreciated  who  makes  him- 
self scarce.  Captain  Branscome,  if  you  will  not 
mind  a  short  scramble  over  the  rocks  here,  to  the  left, 
I  can  promise  you  something  worth  seeing." 

He  led  the  way  at  once  and  we  followed,  the  Cap- 
tain (who  appeared  to  have  lost  his  temper  again) 
growling  that  he  took  no  stock  in  views.  But  the  dis- 
tance was  not  far.  We  scrambled  over  two  low  ledges 
of  rock  and  found  ourselves  looking  down  upon  a 
beach  even  prettier  and  more  fairy-like  than  the  one 
we  had  left — and  upon  something  more — a  ship's 
boat,  drawn  about  thirty  feet  above  high  water,  and 
resting  there  on  her  side. 

"  Yours  ?  "  asked  Captain  Branscome,  after  a  long 
stare  at  her. 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Dr.  Beauregard. 
"  And  that  is  why  I  brought  you  here." 


333 


CHAPTER   XXX 

THE    SCREAM    ON    THE    CLIFF 

"  A  BOAT  ? "  said  Captain  Branscorae,  staring 
again,  and  sloM'ly  rubbing  the  back  of  his  head. 

He  took  a  step  forward,  to  descend  to  the  beach 
and  examine  her,  but  Dr.  Beauregard  laid  a  hand  on 
his  arm. 

"  Kot  so  fast,  my  friend !  Qui  dit  canot  dit  cano- 
iier — a  glance  will  assure  you  that  she  did  not  beach 
herself  in  that  position,  above  high-water  mark,  still 
less  furl  her  own  sail  and  stow  it.  Further,  if  you 
study  the  country  behind  us,  you  will  see  that,  while 
we  came  unobserved  and  stand  at  this  moment  in  ex- 
cellent cover,  by  crossing  the  beach  we  expose  our- 
selves to  observation  and  the  risk  of  a  bullet." 

"  I  take  it,  sir,"  answered  Captain  Branseome, 
still  puzzled,  "  you  knew  this  boat  to  be  here,  and 
have  brought  us  with  some  purpose." 

"  I  knew  it,  to  be  sure,  and  my  purpose  is  simple. 
We  cannot  have  a  rival  party  of  treasure-seekers  on 
the  island.     We  have  ladies  in  our  charge — gentle, 

334 


THE    SCREAM    OX    THE    CLIFF 

well-bred  ladies — and  of  the  crew  of  that  boat,  one 
man  to  mj  knowledge  is  a  pretty  desperate  ruffian. 
The  other  two " 

"  You  have  seen  them,  then  ?  " 

Dr.  Beauregard  lifted  his  shoulders  slightly,  and 
took  snuff. 

"  My  good  friend,"  he  answered,  "  as  lord  proprie- 
tor of  Mortallone,  I  pay  attention  to  all  my  visitors. 
Well,  as  I  was  saying,  to  cross  the  beach  just  now 
would  be  venturesome  and  foolish,  to  boot,  seeing 
that  we  hold  all  the  cards  and  have  only  to  wait." 

"  What  of  the  ladies  ?  "  asked  the  Captain. 

"  We  can  return  at  once  and  join  them  at  luncheon. 
But  the  ladies,  as  you  remind  me,  complicate  the  af- 
fair. Before  you  arrived,  I  had  laid  my  plans  to  let 
these  rascals  have  the  run  of  the  island  and  amuse  me 
by  their  activities.  I  had,  in  fact,  prepared  a  little 
deception  for  them — oh,  a  very  innocent  little  trick ! 
I  don't  know,  my  dear  sir,  if  it  has  struck  you  how 
much  simpler  our  amusements  tend  to  become  as  we 
grow  older.  I  had  promised  myself  to  watch  them, 
lying  perdu,  and  in  the  end  to  dismiss  them  with  a 
quiet  chuckle.  You  have  read  your  '  Tempest,'  Cap- 
tain Branscome  ?  Well,  I  have  no  obedient  Ariel  to 
play  will-o'-the-wisp  with  such  gentry;  yet  I  would 
have  led  them  a  very  pretty  dance.  But  the  ladies — 
the  ladies,  to  be  sure!     We  cannot  expose  them  to 

335 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

dangers,  nor  even  to  alarms.  We  must  use  more 
summary  methods."  He  stood  for  a  moment  or  two 
reflective,  tapping  his  snuffbox.  "  Mr.  Goodfellow  is 
a  carpenter,  I  understand." 

"  At  your  service,  sir." 

Mr.  Goodfellow's  hand  went  halfway  to  his  waist- 
coat pocket,  as  if  to  produce  his  business  card. 

"  I  seem  to  remember,  Mr.  Goodfellow,  that  you 
carry  a  bag  of  tools  in  the  boat  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Including,  no  doubt,  an  auger,  or,  at  any  rate, 
a  fair-sized  gimlet  ?  " 

"Both,  sir." 

"  You  will  greatly  oblige  me,  then,  Mr.  Goodfellow 
— always  with  Captain  Branscome's  leave — by  re- 
turning to  the  boat  and  fetching  3'our  auger;  if  pos- 
sible, without  attracting  the  ladies'  observation.  With 
this,  instead  of  returning  direct  to  us,  you  will  make 
your  way  to  the  left,  towards  the  head  of  the  beach, 
keeping  well  under  the  rocks,  which  will  serve  you 
from  landward.  At  the  head  of  the  beach  you  will 
bring  us  into  sight  a  pace  or  two  before  you  come 
abreast  of  the  boat.  There,  at  a  signal  from  me,  you 
will  creep  down  to  the  boat — on  hands  and  knees,  or 
on  your  stomach  if  you  will — and  bore  me  three  small 
holes  close  alongside  her  keelson,  using  as  much  ex- 
pedition as  may  consist  with  neatness.     You  under- 

336 


THE    SCREAM    ON    THE    CLIFF 

stand  ?  Then  the  quicker  you  set  about  it,  the  less 
will  be  the  risk." 

Mr.  Goodfellow  touched  his  forelock,  and  sped  on 
his  errand.  Dr.  Beauregard  seated  himself  on  the 
rocks,  and  loosing  the  gun  from  his  bandolier,  laid 
it  across  his  knees. 

"  A  simple  job,"  he  remarked.  "  Any  one  of  us 
could  do  it  as  well  as  Goodfellow.  But  it  is  a  prac- 
tice of  mine  to  take  the  smallest  risks  into  account ; 
and  if  the  honest  fellow  should  be  detected,  why,  I 
imagine  he  can  be  the  most  easily  spared  of  the 
party." 

Mr.  Goodfellow,  however,  reached  the  boat  with- 
out misadventure. 

"  Ah,  he  displays  intelligence !  "  commented  Dr. 
Beauregard,  watching  him  as,  before  setting  to  work, 
he  lifted  the  boat's  gunwale  and  heaved  her  over  on 
her  other  side,  exposing  the  bilge-piece  on  which  she 
had  been  resting.  "  Yes,  decidedly,  he  displays  in- 
telligence." 

Mr.  Goodfellow  having  stripped  off  his  coat,  picked 
up  his  auger  and  bored  his  three  holes  very  neatly. 
This  done,  he  rubbed  them  over  with  a  handful  of 
sand,  and  smoothed  over  with  sand  all  traces  of  saw- 
dust, heaved  the  boat  back,  so  that  she  rested  again 
in  her  original  position;  and  retired,  sweeping  his 
coat  behind  him,  and  obliterating  his  footprints  as  he 


went. 


33 


POISOX    ISLAND 

"  Couldn't  be  bettered/'  said  Dr.  Beauregard,  smil- 
ing cheerfully  and  smoothing  his  gun-barrel.  "  And 
now  I  think  we  may  rejoin  the  ladies  and  pray  that 
these  rascals  will  put  off  disturbing  us  until  after 
luncheon.  At  one  time  I  feared  they  might  have 
taken  a  panic  yesterday  morning  at  sight  of  your 
schooner;  but  they  calculated,  maybe,  that  the 
chances  were  all  against  your  discovering  their  pres- 
ence, which,  of  course,  you  never  suspected." 

"  I  suspected  something  fast  enough,"  said  Cap- 
tain Branscome,  "  for  in  running  along  the  coast  I 
caught  sight  of  smoke  rising  among  the  hills — from 
a  camp-fire  as  I  reckoned — and  no  doubt  from  here 
or  hereabouts,  though  I  should  have  put  it  a  mile  or 
two  farther  south." 

"  The  born  fools  !  "  said  Dr.  Beauregard,  laughing. 
'"  Well,  it's  even  possible  that  in  their  furious  pre- 
occupation they  let  the  schooner  come  close  without 
spying  her.  Ah,  Captain,  you  can  hardly  imagine — 
you,  fresh  from  a  civilized  country,  where  folks  must 
keep  up  appearances,  while  they  prey  upon  one  an- 
other— how  this  lust  of  gold  brutalizes  a  man  when, 
as  here,  he  pursues  it  without  restraint.  And  what, 
after  all,  will  gold  purchase  ?  " 

"  Xot  happiness,  I  verily  believe,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain, "  though  to  the  poor — and  I  speak  as  one  who 
has  been  bitterly  poor — it  may  bring  happiness  for  a 

338 


THE    SCREAM    OX    THE    CLIFF 

while  in  the  shape  of  relief  from  grinding  discom- 
fort." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  as  pleasure  lies  in  mere  cessation  from 
pain.  But  that  does  not  meet  my  question.  We  will 
take  Master  Harry  here,  who  seems  a  good,  ordinary 
healthy  boy.  We  will  suppose  him  in  possession  of 
the  treasure  you  are  here  to  seek.  What  in  the  end 
can  he  purchase  with  it  better  than  the  fun  he  is  get- 
ting out  of  this  expedition  ?  He  can  indulge  all  his 
senses,  but  for  a  while  only;  in  the  end  indulgence 
brings  satiety,  dulls  the  appetite,  takes  the  savor 
from  the  feast,  and  so  destroys  itself.  He  can  pur- 
chase power,  you  say?  But  that  again  moves  one 
difficulty  but  a  step  further.  For  what  will  his  power 
give  him  when  he  has  won  it  ?  These  are  questions. 
Captain,  which  I  have  asked  myself  daily  here  on  this 
island.  I  have  been  asking  them  ever  since,  and  while 
I  was  yet  a  young  man  they  came  to  wear  for  me  a 
personal  application.  '  Vanity  of  vanities,'  Captain 
— what  the  preacher  discovered  long  ago  I  discovered 
again  and  of  my  own  experience." 

"  The  Christian  religion,  sir — "  began  Cai)tain 
Branscome.  But  here  our  strange  host  laid  a  hand 
on  his  arm. 

"  We  forget  our  politeness,"  he  interrupted,  yet 
gently,  and  without  suspicion  of  offence.  "  We  keep 
the  ladies  waiting." 

339 


POISOX    ISLAND 

"  Captain  Branscome  and  I,"  said  our  host,  as  he 
Tmcorked  one  of  the  green-sealed  bottles,  "  have  been 
talking  platitudes,  to  which,  however,  our  present 
business  lends  a  certain  fresh  interest.  You  are  here, 
many  thousands  of  miles  from  home,  on  a  hunt  for 
treasure.  Now,  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  criti- 
cise your  intentions,  seeing  that  incidentally  I  am  in 
debt  to  them  for  this  delightful  picnic;  but  before 
I  help  you — as,  believe  me,  I  am  disposed  to  help — 
may  I  ask  what  you  propose  to  do  with  this  wealth 
when  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir,"  answered  Miss  Belcher  candidly, 
"  we  discussed  that,  you  may  be  sure,  before  start- 
ing. The  bulk  of  it,  after  paying  expenses,  was 
to  go  to  young  Brooks  here.  Circumstances  had 
given  him,  as  we  supposed — and  for  the  matter 
of  that,  as  we  still  believe — the  clew  to  the  treas- 
ure  " 

"  Pardon  me,  ma'am,  for  interrupting  you ;  but 
did  that  clew  take  the  form  of  a  map  of  the  island  ?  " 

"  It  did,  sir." 

"  A  map  with  three  red  crosses  upon  it  and  some 
writing  on  the  back.  Nay,  I  will  not  press  the  ques- 
tion.    Your  faces  answer  it." 

"  I  ought  to  tell  you.  Dr.  Beauregard,  in  justice 
to  the  boy,  that  he  came  by  it  honestiy,  though  in  very 
tragic  circumstances." 

340 


THE    SCREAM    ON    THE    CLIFF 

"  Again,  ma'am,  your  faces  would  answer  for  the 
honesty  of  your  business.  As  for  the  circumstances 
you  speak  of,  it  may  save  time  if  I  tell  you  that  I 
know  the  whole  story.  Why,  truly,"  he  went  on,  as 
we  stared,  "  there  is  no  mystery  about  it.  I  dare  say, 
ma'am,  the  boy  has  found  an  opportunity  to  whisper 
to  you  that  he  and  I  have  met  before.  It  was  at  Min- 
den  Cottage,  in  his  father's  garden,  and  by  the  very 
spot  where  his  father  was  murdered.  He  found  me 
there  taking  measurements,  for  I  had  a  theory  about 
the  crime — a  theory  of  which  I  need  only  say  here 
that,  though  right  in  the  main,  it  missed  certain  de- 
tails of  which  Harry's  engaging  conversation  put  me 
on  the  scent.  I  had  read  of  the  murder  quite  acci- 
dentally ;  but  it  happened  that  I  knew  something  of 
Coffin — enough  to  explain  his  fate — and  of  the  man 
who  had  murdered  him.  But  of  Major  Brooks  I 
knew  nothing ;  and  what  I  gathered  by  inquiry  made 
the  whole  affair  more  and  more  puzzling.  At  length 
I  hit  on  the  explanation  that  Coffin — who  had  rea- 
sons, and  strong  ones,  for  going  in  deadly  terror  of 
Aaron  Glass — had  in  some  way  chosen  this  Major 
Brooks  for  his  confessor,  and  journeyed  to  Minden 
<^ottage  to  deposit  the  secret  with  him;  and -that 
Glass,  following  in  pursuit,  had  surprised  and  mur- 
dered the  both  of  them.  The  exact  catena  of  the  two 
crimes  mattered  less  to  me  than  the  question :    Had 

341 


POISON    ISLAND 

Glass  possessed  himself  of  the  secret  before  making 
off  ?  At  first  I  saw  no  room  to  doubt  it.  But  your 
young  friend's  account  of  himself  sent  me  to  Fal- 
mouth, and  at  Falmouth  I  began  to  have  my  doubts. 
My  earliest  inquiries  there  were  addressed  to  the 
pedagogue — the  Reverend  Something-or-other  Stim- 
coe — a  drunken  idiot,  who  yielded  no  information  at 
all ;  and  to  his  wife,  a  lady  who  persisted  in  regarding 
me  as  sent  from  heaven  for  no  other  purpose  than  to 
discharge  her  small  debts.  From  her,  again,  I  learned 
nothing.  But  from  a  talk  with  one  of  her  pupils — • 
his  name  was  Bates,  if  I  remember — I  discovered 
that  Master  Harry  had  been  a  particular  crony  of 
Coffin's,  and  this,  of  course,  threw  light  on  Coffin's 
visit  to  Minden  Cottage.  Still,  there  remained  the 
question:  Had  Glass  managed  to  lay  hands  on  the 
chart,  or  had  it  found  its  way,  after  all,  into  the  pos- 
session of  Master  Harry  Brooks  ?  You'll  excuse  me, 
young  sir  " — Dr.  Beauregard  turned  to  me — "  but 
during  our  talk  in  the  garden,  your  manner  suggested 
to  me  that  you  had  a  card  up  your  sleeve.  Well, 
whatever  the  answer,  mv  obvious  course  was  to  re- 
turn  to  Mortallone  and  await  it,  as  for  fifteen  years 
already  I  have  been  awaiting  it,  though  question  and 
answer  were  but  now  beginning  to  take  definite  form. 
Here  vou  are  then  at  last,  and  here  am  I — tout  vieni 

*-■  7 

a  point  a  qui  sail  attendre." 

342 


THE    SCREAM    O^    THE    CLIFF 

"  Then  our  arrival,  sir,  did  not  altogether  surprise 
you  ?  "  said  Miss  Belcher. 

"  On  the  contrary,  ma'am,  though  for  reasons  you 
will  not  easily  guess,  it  surprised  me  as  I  have  never 
been  surprised  in  all  my  life  before ;  it  confounded 
me,  dumfounded  me,  made  chaos  of  my  plans,  and — ■ 
and — I  am  delighted  to  welcome  you,  ma'am.  I  de- 
sire to  be  allowed  the  honor  of  taking  wine  with  you." 

"  Willingly,"  assented  Miss  Belcher,  holding  out 
her  glass  to  be  replenished :  "  and  the  more  so  be- 
cause I  never  drank  better  Rhine  wine  in  my  life." 

Dr.  Beauregard  stood  up  and  bowed,  his  fine  fea- 
tures overspread  with  a  flush  of  pleased  astonish- 
ment. "  Madam — "  began  Dr.  Beauregard,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  he  had  a  compliment  on  his  lips.  But 
at  that  moment  the  hills  and  the  amphitheatre  of  cliff 
behind  us  rang  out — rang  out  and  echoed — with  two 
terrible  screams. 


343 


CHAPTER    XXXI 


AARON    GLASS 


The  second  scream  followed  the  first  almost  before 
we  could  lift  our  faces  to  the  cliff.  Dr.  Beauregard 
had  risen  to  his  feet  quickly,  without  fuss,  and 
was  unstrapping  his  gun.  But  Miss  Belcher  was 
quicker.  A  couple  of  muskets  lay  on  the  sand  beside 
the  luncheon-cloth,  and  in  a  trice  she  had  snatched  up 
one  of  them,  and  held  our  host  covered. 

"  You  have  deceived  us,  sir,"  she  said  quietly. 

Dr.  Beauregard  looked  along  the  barrel  and  into 
her  eyes  with  an  admiring,  half-quizzical  smile. 

"  Good,"  said  he.  "  Good,  but  unnecessary.  That 
the  island  is  inhabited  I  supposed  you  to  know, 
since  Captain  Branscome  tells  me  he  reported 
catching  sight  of  smoke  yesterday  as  you  neared 
the  western  coast;  but  the  fellows — there  are,  or 
were,  three  of  them,  by  the  way — are  no  friends  of 


mine." 


'•  We  have  only  your   word   for   it,"   said  Miss 
Belcher,  without  lowering  her  musket. 

3.44 


AARON    GLASS 

"  True,  ma'am,"  the  Doctor  assented,  with  a  bow. 
"  I  am  about  to  give  you  proof.  But  first  of  all 
oblige  me  by  listening  for  another  moment." 

He  held  up  his  hand,  and  while  we  all  listened  I 
looked  around  from  face  to  face.  Captain  Brans- 
come  had  unslipped  his  gun,  and  stood  eying  the 
Doctor  with  a  puzzled  frown.  Plinny  stared  up  at 
the  cliffs.  She  was  white  to  the  lips,  but  the  lips 
were  firmly  set ;  whereas  Mr.  Goodfellow's  jaw  hung 
as  though  loosed  from  its  tacklings. 

So  we  waited  for  twenty  seconds,  maybe;  but  no 
third  scream  came  down  from  the  heights. 

"  That  makes  one  accounted  for,"  said  Dr.  Beau- 
regard. "  I  have  knowm,  first  and  last,  eleven  par- 
ties who  hunted  treasure  on  this  island.  They  all 
quarrelled.  They  quarrelled,  moreover,  every  one  of 
them,  before  getting  their  stuff — such  as  it  was — to 
the  boats.  Now,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so, 
your  own  success — when  you  obtain  it — will  be  a 
fluke  and  an  absurd  fluke.  It  will  stultify  every  rule 
of  precaution  and  violate  every  law  of  chance.  I 
have  studied  this  game  for  close  upon  twenty 
years,  and  reduced  it  almost  to  mathematics;  and 
I  foresee  that  you  will  play — nay,  you  have  al- 
ready played — ninepins  with  my  most  certain  con- 
clusions. But  you  have  as  gentlefolks,  with  all  the 
disabilities   of  gentlefolks,   the   one   thing   that   all 

345 


POISON    ISLAND 

these  experts  have  fatally  lacked.  You  have  self- 
command." 

"  It  appears  to  me  that  we  need  it,  at  any  rate," 
said  Miss  Belcher  tartly,  "  if  we  are  to  be  favored 
just  now  with  a  lecture." 

Dr.  Beauregard  smiled. 

"  The  purport  of  my  lecture,  ma'am,  was  to  pre- 
pare you  for  a  question  which  I  have  to  put.  When 
these  men  arrive,  Captain  Branscome,  Mr.  Goodfel- 
low,  and  I  must  deal  with  them.  Are  you  ladies 
prepared  to  exercise  strong  self-control  ?  Will  you, 
with  Harry  Brooks,  await  us  here  until  our  business 
is  over  ? " 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,  but  I  must  first  know  what  your 
business  is." 

"  That,  ma'am,  will  depend  upon  circumstances ; 
but  it  is  more  than  likely  to  be  serious." 

"I  must  trouble  you,  now  and  always,  to  speak 
to  me  definitely.  If  you  propose  to  shoot  these  men, 
kindly  say  so." 

"  I  do  not,  ma'am.  But  their  boat  lies  on  the  next 
beach,  and  as  soon  as  they  launch  her  they  will  dis- 
cover us;  and  as  soon  as  they  discover  us  it  will  be 
life  for  life." 

"  But  they  need  not  discover  us.  In  five  minutes 
we  can  embark  ourselves  and  our  belongings ;  in  less 
than  fifteen  we  can  round  the  point  to  the  south'ard, 

346 


AARON    GLASS 

and  beyond  it  lie  two  or  three  small  coves  where,  as 
I  judged  in  passing,  a  boat  can  lie  reasonably  safe 
from  observation." 

"  Admirably  reasoned,  ma'am.  By  all  means  take 
the  boat — take  Harry  Brooks  with  you,  and  Mr. 
Goodfellow  for  protection.  But  Captain  Branscome 
and  I  must  stay  and  see  it  out  with  these  men." 

"  For  my  part,"  put  in  Plinny,  "  I  cannot  see  why 
these  men  have  not  as  much  right  as  we  to  the  treas- 
ure ;  and,  in  any  case,  if  we  let  them  go  they  leave  us 
a  clear  coast  to  hunt  for  the  rest." 

"  Captain  Branscome  "  —  Dr.  Beauregard  turned 
to  him — "  do  these  ladies,  as  a  rule,  assert  a  voice  in 
your  dispositions  ?  " 

"  They  do,  sir,"  answered  the  Captain,  with  a  pa- 
thetic smile ;  "  and  if  you  will  take  my  advice,  the 
only  way  with  them  is  to  make  a  clean  breast  of 
everything." 

"  I  will."  The  Doctor  faced  about,  with  a  smile. 
"  You  must  know  then,  ladies,  that  these  two  ruffians 
— for  by  this  time  there  are  two  only — will  presently 
be  coming  down  to  the  next  beach  to  launch  their 
boat  and  leave  the  island.  How  do  I  know  this  ? 
Because  my  study  of  treasure-hunters  has  given  me 
a  kind  of  instinct ;  or  because,  if  you  prefer  it,  I  have 
observed  that  the  moment — the  crucial  moment — 
when  these  fellows  quarrel  is  always  the  moment 

347 


POISOX    ISLAND 

when,  having  laid  hands  on  as  much  as  they  can 
carry,  they  turn  to  retreat.  You  doubt  my  diagnosis, 
ma'am  ?  "  he  asked,  turning  to  Miss  Belcher.  "  Then 
I  can  convince  you  even  more  simply.  These  men 
are  not  camping  here  to-night ;  they  will  not  return 
to-morrow  to  fetch  a  second  load ;  and  for  the  suf- 
ficient reason  that  there  is  no  second  load.  I  know 
the  amount  of  treasure  hidden  where  they  have  been 
searching.     Two  men  can  lift  and  carry  it  easily." 

"  How  do  you  happen  to  know  this  ?  "  asked  Miss 
Belcher,  eying  him  from  under  contracted  brows. 

"  For  the  excellent  reason,  ma'am,  that  I  put  the 
treasure  there  myself." 

The  answer,  staggering  to  the  rest  of  us,  seemed  to 
brace  her  together.  She  had  lowered  her  musket  at 
the  beginning  of  the  discussion;  but  now,  throwing 
up  her  head  with  a  sharp  jerk,  she  levelled  her  eyes 
on  Dr.  Beauregard's,  as  straight  as  though  they 
looked  along  a  gun-barrel. 

"  Then  it  can  hardly  be  for  the  sake  of  the  treas- 
ure, sir,  that  you  propose  to  deal  with  these  men." 

"  It  is  not,  ma'am." 

"  Nor  solely  to  protect  us  from  them,  since  you 
have  brought  us  here,  where  we  need  never  have 
come." 

"  'No,  ma'am.  I  brought  you  here  because  I  can- 
not be  in  two  places  at  once,  and  it  was  necessary  to 

348 


AAROX    GLASS 

keep  both  parties  under  my  eye.  Having  brought 
you,  I  am  bound  to  protect  you ;  but  my  main  busi- 
ness here,  and  yours — or  at  any  rate  Captain  Brans- 
come's — is  to  punish." 

"  To  punish  ?    But  why  to  punish  ?  " 

Dr.  Beauregard  hesitated,  with  a  glance  at  Plinny 
and  at  me,  who  stood  beside  her. 

"  A  word  in  your  ear,  ma'am — if  you  will  allow 
me?" 

He  stepped  close  to  Miss  Belcher,  and  spoke  a  sen- 
tence or  two  which  I  could  not  catch.  But  my  eyes 
were  on  her  face,  and  I  saw  it  change  color.  The 
next  moment  her  square  mouth  shut  like  a  trap. 

"  If  that  be  so,  I  wait  for  him  along  with  you," 
she  announced.  "  Oh,  you  may  trust  me,  sir.  I  have 
a  fairly  strong  stomach  with  criminals,  and  no  sen- 
timent." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  please,  ma'am.  But,  for  the 
others,  I  would  suggest  their  taking  the  boat  and 
awaiting  us  around  the  point.  See,  the  tide  has 
risen,  and  within  five  minutes  she  will  float.  Mr. 
Goodfellow,  will  you  accompany  Miss  Plinlimmon 
and  the  boy  ?  Wait,  please,  until  completely  afloat 
before  pushing  off;  for  our  friends  must  be  near  at 
hand  by  this  time,  and  the  grating  of  her  keel  might 
give  them  the  alarm.  For  the  same  reason,  ma'am, 
unless  you  have  any  particular  question  to  ask,  we 

349 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

had  best  start  at  once,  and,  when  we  have  started, 
keep  the  strictest  silence.     Shall  I  lead  the  way  ?  " 

They  set  off  very  cautiously,  the  Doctor  leading, 
Miss  Belcher  close  at  his  heels,  Captain  Branscome 
a  couple  of  paces  behind  her ;  gained  the  ridge,  and 
passed  out  of  sight  around  an  angle  of  the  rocks. 
ISTow  to  be  left  in  this  fashion  was  not  at  all  to  my 
mind.     It  seemed  to  me  that,  when  serious  business 
was  on  hand,  every  one  conspired  to  treat  me  as  a 
baby.     I  had  told  Captain  Branscome  yesterday  that 
I  would  not  stand  it;   and  though  I  stood  in  far 
greater  awe  of  Dr.  Beauregard  than  of  the  Captain, 
I  felt  none  the  less  mutinous  now,     Plinny,  who  in 
moments  of  agitation  invariably  had  recourse  to  some 
familiar  work  for  a  sedative,  was  on  her  knees  re- 
packing the  luncheon-baskets.     Her  back  was  turned 
to  me,  and  from  her  I  glanced  towards  Mr.  Good- 
fellow,  who  had  stepped  down  to  the  boat,  and  was 
leaning   over   the   gunwale    to   rearrange    the    gear. 
From  him  I  looked  up  the  beach,  to  the  ridge  behind 
which  the  others  had  disappeared,  and  the  creepers 
overhanging  the  cliff.      Suddenly  it  came  into  my 
head  that  by  gaining  the  upper  end  of  the  ridge, 
where  it  met  the  cliff,  I  could  wriggle  under  these 
creepers,  and  observe  from  behind  them  all  that  went 
on,  as  well  on  the  next  beach  as  on  this.     And  with 
another  glance  at  Plinny 's  back  I  tiptoed  away. 

350 


AAROX    GLASS 

I  moved  as  swiftly  as  I  dared,  making  no  noise, 
nor  looked  behind  me  until  I  reached  the  rocks  under 
the  cliff — the  path  by  which  Mr.  Goodfellow  had 
crept  round  to  scuttle  the  boat. 

I  calculated  that,  by  working  my  way  along  for 
fifty  yards  between  them  and  the  rock-face  I  should 
gain  an  opening  which,  observed  from  below,  had 
seemed  to  promise  me  an  excellent  view  of  the  next 
beach.  But  they  hung  so  heavily  that  I  found  my- 
self struggling  in  an  almost  impenetrable  thicket; 
and  w'hen  at  length  1  gained  the  opening,  and  drew 
breath,  above  the  splash  of  waves  on  the  beach 
I  heard  a  sound  which  caused  me  to  huddle 
back  like  a  rabbit  surprised  in  the  mouth  of  his 
burrow^ 

Some  three  yards  from  my  hiding  the  bank  of  low 
cliff  bounding  the  beach  shelved  upward  and  inland 
in  a  stretch  of  short  turf,  and  from  the  head  of  this 
slope  came  the  thud  of  footsteps — of  heavy  footsteps 
descending  closer  and  closer. 

I  drew  back  under  the  creepers,  and  held  my 
breath.  Between  their  thick  woven  strands  my  eyes 
caught  only,  to  the  right,  a  twinkle  of  the  sea ;  in 
front,  a  yard  or  two  of  w^hite  shingle  glittering  be- 
yond the  green  shade ;  and,  five  seconds  later,  this 
patch  was  blotted  out  as  two  men  plunged  past  my 
spyhole.    They  walked  abreast,  and  carried  a  box  be- 

351 


POISOX    ISLAND 

tween  them.  I  could  hear  them  panting,  so  closely 
they  passed. 

They  halted  on  the  edge  of  the  bank. 

"  The  boat's  all  right,"  said  one.  And  I  heard 
him  jump  down  upon  the  shingle.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  I  knew  his  voice.  "  Here,  pass  down  the  blamed 
thing  .  .  .  d — n  it  all,  man !  " 

"  I  can't,''^  whimpered  the  other.  "  S'help  me, 
Bill,  I  can't.  .  .  .  I'm  not  used  to  it,  and  I  ain't  got 
the  nerve." 

"  Nerve  ?  An'  you  call  yourself  a  seaman !  An' 
a  plucky  lot  you  boasted  the  night  we  signed  articles. 
.  .  .  Nerve  ?  Why,  you  was  the  very  man  to  find 
fault  with  him.  '  Couldn't  stand  his  temper  another 
day,'  you  said;  and  must  do  something  desprit. 
Those  were  your  very  words." 

"  I  know  it.     I  didn't  think " 

"Oh,  to  with  your  'didn't  think'!     The 

man's  dead,  an'  cryin'  won't  bring  him  back.  Much 
you'd  welcome  him,  if  he  did  come  back !  " 

"  Don't,  Bill !  " 

"  Now,  look  you  here,  Jim  Rogers !  Stand  you 
up,  and  help  me  get  this  lot  in  the  boat,  and  the  boat 
to  sea.  After  that  you  can  lie  quiet  and  cry  yourself 
sick.  .  .  .  You'll  be  all  right  to-morrow,  fit  as  a  fid- 
dle. I've  been  in  this  business  before,  and  seen  how 
it  takes  men,  even  the  strongest.     It's  the  sight  o' 

352 


AARON^    GLASS 

blood ;  but  the  stomach  gets  accustomed.  .  .  .  By 
this  day  week  you'll  be  lively  as  a  flea  in  a  rug,  and 
lookin'  forward  to  drivin'  in  your  carriage-an'-pair. 
I  promise  you  that ;  but  what  you've  to  do  at  this  mo- 
ment is  to  stand  up,  and  help  me  get  down  the  boat. 
For  if  7ie's  any^vhere  on  this  island,  God  help  the 
pair  of  us  !  " 

"  He  !  "  quavered  Jim  Rogers. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder." 

"  But  you  told  me  he  was  dead !  " 

"  Did  I  ?  Well,  perhaps  I  did.  That  was  to  keep 
your  spirits  up.  But  now  I  don't  mind  tellin'  you 
that  I'm  not  sure.  He  ouglii  to  be  dead  by  this  time ; 
but  'tis  a  question  if  the  likes  of  him  ever  die.  He's 
own  cousin  to  the  devil,  I  tell  you ;  and  if  he's  any- 
where alive,  like  as  not  he's  watching  us  at  this 
moment." 

Whatever  this  meant,  it  appeared  to  rouse  Jim 
Rogers,  and  start  him  in  a  panic.  I  heard  him  sob  as 
he  helped  to  lower  their  burden  upon  the  beach. 
iSTow,  all  this  time  they  had  been  standing  immedi- 
ately beneath  me,  and  I  dared  not  lift  my  head  for 
a  look.  But  now,  as  they  went  staggering  down  the 
beach,  I  parted  the  creepers,  and  stared  in  their  wake. 
They  carried  a  heavy  sea-chest  between  them,  but  my 
eyes  were  neither  for  the  chest  nor  for  Jim  Rogers, 
but  for  his  companion,  the  man  he  called  Bill. 

353 


POISOX    ISLAND 

I  knew  him  before  I  looked;  and  as  I  had  recog- 
nized his  voice,  so  now  I  recognized  his  narrow,  foxy 
head,  and  sloping  shoulders. 

It  was  Aaron  Glass. 

The  two  men  carried  the  chest  along  at  a  rate  that 
perhaps  came  easily  enough  to  Jim  Rogers,  who  was 
a  young  giant  of  a  seaman,  but  was  astonishing  for 
a  thin,  windlestraw  of  a  man  such  as  Glass.  He 
ploughed  his  way  across  the  sands  like  a  demon,  and 
had  scarcely  set  down  the  chest,  a  little  above  the 
water's  edge,  before  he  was  tugging  at  the  boat.  I 
heard  him  call  to  Rogers  to  help,  and  the  pair 
heave-y-ho'ed  together  as  they  strained  at  the  gun- 
wale to  lift  her  and  run  her  down. 

From  this  ridge,  as  yet,  came  no  sign. 

Presently  from  the  boat  —  they  had  pulled  her 
down  to  the  water,  and  were  both  stooping  over  her 
with  their  shoulders  well  inside,  busy  in  arranging 
her  bottom-board — I  heard  a  fearful  oath ;  an  oath 
that  rose  in  a  scream  as  the  two  men  faced  each  other, 
scared,  incredulous. 

''Scuttled,  hy  God!'' 

It  was  Glass  who  screamed  it  out,  and  with  the 
sound  of  it  a  host  of  sea-birds  rose  from  the  neigh- 
boring rocks,  whitening  the  sky.  But  Jim  Rogers 
cast  up  both  hands  and  ran. 

"  Stop,  you  fool !     Stop !  " 

354 


AAROX    GLASS 

I  think  the  poor  creature  had  no  notion  whither  he 
ran ;  that  he  was  merely  demented.  But,  in  fact,  he 
headed  straight  for  the  ridge,  not  turning  his  head. 
Twice  Glass  called  after  him ;  then,  in  a  sudden  fury, 
whipped  out  a  pistol  and  fired.  For  the  moment  I 
supposed  that  he  had  missed,  for  the  man  ran  for  an- 
other six  strides  without  seeming  to  falter,  then  his 
knees  weakened,  and  he  pitched  forward  on  his  face. 

I  believe,  on  my  word,  that  Glass  had  either  fired 
in  blind  passion  or  with  intent  to  stop  the  man  rather 
than  to  kill  him.  He  stood  and  stared ;  and,  while  the 
pistol  yet  smoked  in  his  hand,  I  saw  Dr.  Beauregard 
step  forth  from  his  shelter,  step  delicately  past  the 
corpse,  and  raise  his  musket ;  and  heard  his  clear, 
resonant  voice  call  out: 

"  Both  hands  up,  Mr.  Glass,  if  you  please !  " 


355 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

WE   COME   TO   DR.    BEAUREGARd's    HOUSE 

Glass's  arm  fell  limp  by  his  side,  as  thongh  Dr. 
Beauregard  had  actually  pulled  the  trigger  and 
winged  him.  He  turned  half -about  as  the  pistol  slid 
from  his  fingers.  He  gave  no  cry ;  only  there  reached 
us  a  loose,  throttling  sound  such  as  a  steam  whistle 
makes  before  fetching  its  note.  It  came  to  us  in  the 
lull  between  two  waves  that  broke  and  raced  up  the 
sands  to  ripple  around  his  feet. 

"  Both  hands  up,  Mr.  Glass !  " 

Dr.  Beauregard  advanced  a  step. 

But  instead  of  lifting  his  arms,  the  man  curved 
them  before  him,  and  held  them  so,  as  if  to  protect 
his  treasure,  while  he  sank  on  his  knees  beside  the 
box.    His  face  was  yellow  with  terror. 

"  You  fool !  " — the  doctor,  still  holding  him  cov- 
ered, advanced  step  by  step  to  the  box,  and  bent  over 
it,  staring  down  at  him.  The  rest  of  us  followed — 
that  is  to  say,  Miss  Belcher,  Captain  Branscome,  and 
I, — under  I  know  not  what  compulsion,  followed  and 
came  to  a  halt  a  few  paces  behind  him.    Standing  so, 

35G 


DR.    BEAUREGARD'S    HOUSE 

I  felt,  rather  than  saw,  that  Plinny  and  Mr,  Goodfel- 
low,  attracted  by  the  report  of  the  pistol,  were  peer- 
ing at  ns  over  the  ridge  of  rocks  on  the  right. 

"  You  fool !  "  Dr.  Beauregard  repeated,  and  sud- 
denly dropped  the  butt  of  his  musket  upon  the  loose 
cover  of  the  chest. 

"  You  fool !  "  said  he  a  third  time,  and  tearing 
aside  a  splintered  board,  dipped  his  hand  and  held 
it  up  full  of  sparkling  stones.  Opening  his  fingers 
slowly,  he  let  a  few  jewels  rattle  back  upon 
the  heap,  and  held  out  a  moderate  fistful  towards  the 
cowering  Glass.  "  Did  you  actually  suppose,  having 
proved  me  once,  that  I  would  suffer  such  a  common 
cutthroat  as  you  to  march  off  with  my  treasure  ?  Look 
up  at  me,  man !  I  charge  you  with  having  murdered 
Coffin,  even  as  you  have  just  murdered  that  other 
poor  blockhead  who  trusted  you."  He  nodded  side- 
ways— but  still  keeping  his  eyes  upon  Glass — towards 
the  body,  which  lay  as  it  had  fallen.  "  Answer  me. 
Are  you  guilty?  Yes  or  no?  " 

The  man's  mouth  worked,  but  his  tongue  crackled 
in  his  mouth  like  a  parched  leaf,  and  no  words  came. 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  you  would  say ;  that  you  had 
some  excuse — that  Coffin  in  his  time  had  stuck  at 
nothing  to  be  quit  of  you;  that  he  sold  you  to  the 
press-gang;  that  through  Coffin  you  spent  eight,  ten 
— how  many  years? — in  the  war  prisons;  that  he  be- 

357 


POISON    ISLAND 

lieved  you  dead,  as  he  had  taken  pains  to  kill  you. 
Well,  we'll  grant  it.  As  between  two  scoundrels  I'll 
not  trouble  to  weigh  the  rights  against  the  wrongs. 
But  look  at  this  boy,  here.  You  recognize  him,  hey? 
Very  well,  then;  I  charge  you  with  having  murdered 
his  father,  Major  Brooks,  as  you  murdered  Coffin. 
You  have  run  up  a  pretty  long  account,  my  friend, 
for  so  clumsy  a  performer,  but  I  think  you  have 
reached  the  end  of  it." 

Aaron  Glass  looked  at  me  and  blinked.  Terror  of 
the  man  confronting  him  had  twisted  his  dumb  mouth 
into  a  kind  of  grin  horrible  to  see.  It  lifted  his  lip, 
like  the  snarl  of  a  dog,  over  his  yellow  teeth.  Dr. 
Beauregard  laughed  softly. 

"  And  all  for  what  ?  For  an  imperfect  chart — and 
for  these!  He  thrust  his  hand  close  up  to  Glass's 
face,  and  spread  his  fingers  wide,  letting  the  gems 
drip  between  them,  and  rain  back  into  the  treasure- 
chest.  "  What's  wrong  with  them  ?  That's  what 
you'd  be  asking — eh  ? — if  your  poor  tongue  could 
find  the  words.  Why,  only  this,  my  friend — yes, 
look  well  at  them — that  I  hid  them  myself,  and  every 
one  of  them  is  false." 

"  False !  "  I  could  see  the  miserable  creature's 
mouth  at  work,  his  lips  forming  to  the  echo  of  the 
word,  as  it  struck  across  his  terror  like  a  whip.  But 
he  achieved  no  articulate  sound. 

358 


DR.    BEAUREGARD'S    HOUSE 

"  I  give  you  my  word — "  resumed  Dr.  Beaure- 
gard ;  but  a  thud  interrupted  him.  Glass  had  fallen 
forward  in  a  faint,  striking  his  forehead  gainst  the 
edge  of  the  chest,  and  lay  face  downward,  with  the 
blood  oozing  from  his  temple  and  discoloring  the 
sand.  As  the  doctor  paused  and  bent  over  him,  an- 
other wave  came  rippling  up  the  beach,  throwing  a 
long,  thin,  curve  of  foam  before  it,  and  washed  out 
the  stain. 

"  Is — is  he  dead? "  I  heard  Plinny's  voice  quav- 
ering. 

"  ]^ot  yet,  ma'am,"  answered  the  doctor  grimly, 
and  taking  the  inanimate  body  by  the  collar,  he  drew 
it  above  reach  of  the  waves,  and  turned  it  over. 

"  You  are  a  doctor,  sir." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  and  have  some  small  skill."  He  put 
up  a  hand  to  his  breast-pocket,  half  withdrew  it,  and 
hesitated.  "  You  have  baulked  me  of  a  pretty  little 
scheme,"  he  said  quietly.  And  still  while  he  ad- 
dressed us  he  seemed  to  be  considering.  "  Think  of 
this  fellow's  face  when  he  got  his  treasure  across  to 
the  mainland  and  attempted  to  trade  it !  To  be  sure, 
he  gave  us  some  fun  for  our  pains " 

"  If  you  call  it  fun,  sir,"  protested  the  horrified 
Plinny. 

"  Well,  yes,  ma'am,"  he  answered  quietly,  kneel- 
ing and  lifting  Glass's  head,  and  resting  it  across  his 

359 


POISOI^r    ISLA^^D 

thigh.  "  My  humor  may  be  of  a  primitive  sort,  but 
I  confess  it  tickled  by  shocking  a  murderer  into  a 
fainting  fit."  He  felt  in  his  breast-pocket  and  drew 
forth  a  small  phial.  "  Xo,  sir  " — he  turned  to  Cap- 
tain Branscome,  who  had  stepped  forward  to  offer  his 
help — "  let  me  alone,  please.  I  prefer  to  treat  my 
patient  in  my  own  way.  It  will  be  best,  on  the  whole, 
for  everybody." 

He  forced  Glass's  mouth  wide  open,  and  with  one 
hand  poured  about  half  the  contents  of  the  phial  be- 
tween the  patient's  teeth,  drop  by  drop,  very  pa- 
tiently, with  the  other  smoothing  the  gullet  between 
finger  and  thumb. 

We  all  stood  watching  while  he  administered  the 
dose,  Miss  Belcher  close  beside  me,  with  her  hand  on 
my  shoulder.  At  the  twentieth  drop  or  so  I  felt  her 
give  a  start,  as  though  a  thought  had  suddenly  oc- 
curred to  her,  and  I  looked  up  into  her  face.  Her  eyes 
were  fixed  inquiringly  on  Dr.  Beauregard,  and  he, 
happening  also  to  look  up,  met  them  with  a  smile. 

"  You  will  see  in  a  moment,"  he  said,  as  if  answer- 
ing her  thought,  and,  reaching  forward,  he  laid 
two  fingers  on  Glass's  pulse.  "  Yes,  in  a  moment 
now." 

Sure  enough,  in  a  moment  Glass's  eyelids  flut- 
tered a  little,  and  he  came  back  to  life  with  an  audible 
catch  of  the  breath. 

360 


DR.    BEAUREGARD'S    HOUSE 

"  In  two  minutes'  time,  sir  " — the  doctor  turned 
to  Captain  Branscome — "  I  shall  be  glad  of  your  ser- 
vices, and  of  Mr.  Goodfellow's,  to  carry  the  fellow 
down  to  the  boat — that  is  to  say,  if,  in  deference  to 
the  ladies,  you  have  really  decided  not  to  leave  him 
here  to  his  fate.  He  will  sleep  after  this ;  nay,  if  you 
will  listen,  he  is  sleeping  already."  Indeed,  the  pa- 
tient, still  with  his  eyes  closed,  was  breathing  ster- 
torously.     "  The  other  man  is  dead,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  He  must  have  died  instantly,"  answered  Cap- 
tain Branscome,  who  had  stepped  across  to  the  body 
to  assure  himself. 

"  I  had  no  doubt  of  it,  by  the  way  he  dropped. 
Well,  there  is  no  need  to  fetch  a  spade.  Their 
thoughtfulness  provided  one.  You  will  find  it  in  the 
boats  there." 

Half  an  hour  later  we  embarked,  leaving  behind  us 
on  the  beach  a  scuttled  boat,  a  mound  of  sand,  and  a 
chest  of  false  jewelry,  over  the  top  of  which  the 
rising  tide  had  already  begun  to  lap. 

Aaron  Glass  lay  along  the  bottom  boards  asleep, 
and  breathing  apopletically.  I  pulled  the  stroke  pad- 
dle, Mr.  Goodfellow  the  bow,  and  the  captain  steered. 
Dr.  Beauregard  addressed  himself  to  the  ladies,  of 
whom  Miss  Belcher  sat  with  a  corrugated  brow,  as 
though  turning  a  thought  over  and  over  in  her  mind, 

361 


POISON    ISLAND 

and  Plinnj  with  a  white  face  and  scared  eyes,  star- 
ing into  vacancy. 

"  I  am  sorry,  indeed,  ladies,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  that  I  could  not  have  spared  you  this.  The  fool 
shot  his  mate — you  saw  it  yourselves — Avithout  rhyme 
or  reason.  Against  madness,  and  the  impulses  of 
madness,  no  man  can  calculate.  I  might  plead,  too, 
that  in  an  undertaking  like  this,  you  match  yourselves 
against  forces  with  which  it  is  not  given  to  ladies  to 
cope.  I  grant  admiringly  the  courage  that  brought 
you  across  thousands  of  miles,  to  Mortallone,  as  I 
grant,  and  again  admiringly,  the  steadiness  of  your 
behavior  this  afternoon.  But  one  thing  you  did  not 
know — that  in  the  nature  of  things  you  were  bound 
to  meet  with  such  men  and  see  such  things  done.  I 
have  not  lived  beside  treasure  all  these  years  without 
learning  that  it  attracts  such  men  as  carrion  attracts 
the  vultures.  Hide  it  where  you  will,  from  the  end 
of  the  earth  some  bird  of  prey  will  spy  it  out,  or  at 
least,  some  scent  of  it  will  lie  and  draw  such  prowlers 
as  this  fellow."  Dr.  Beauregard  touched  the  sleep- 
ing man  contemptuously  with  the  toe  of  his  boot. 
"  I  myself  have  been — shall  we  say  ? — fortunate.  I 
have  emptied,  or  assisted  to  empty,  two  caches  of 
treasure  in  this  island.  A  third  remains,  of  which 
you  have  the  secret,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  the  richest 
of  all.    But  before  you  attempt  it,  I  have  a  mind  to 

362 


DR.    BEAUREGARD'S    HOUSE 

tell  you  something  of  the  other  two,  that  at  least  you 
may  not  attempt  it  unwarned." 

"  You  may  spare  yourself  the  pains,  sir,"  said  Miss 
Belcher  decisively;  "since  our  minds  are  made  up. 
You  might,  I  doubt  not,  succeed  in  frightening  us ; 
but  since  you  certainly  will  not  deter  us,  I  suggest 
that  the  less  we  hear  the  better." 

The  doctor  bowed. 

"  Ah,  madam,"  sighed  he,  "  if  only  Fate  had  timed 
your  adventure  two  years  ago ;  or  if  departing  with 
the  treasure,  you  could  even  now  leave  me  to  regrets 
— in  peace !  " 

"  My  good  sir,"  said  Miss  Belcher  sharply,  "  I 
haven't  a  doubt  you  mean  something  or  other;  but 
what  precisely  it  is,  I  cannot  conceive." 

"  You  "will  go,  madam,  leaving  my  island  twice 
empty.  That  is  Fate,  and  I  consent  with  Fate.  But 
the  devil  of  it  is,  ma'am — if  I  may  use  the  expression 
— ^your  removing  the  treasure  will  not  prevent  others 
coming  to  look  for  it,  and  annoying  an  old  age  which 
has  ceased  to  set  store  on  wealth,  or  on  anything  that 
wealth  can  purchase." 

She  looked  at  him  oddly. 

"  Well,  now,"  she  confessed,  "  you  are  a  mystery 
to  me  in  half  a  dozen  ways ;  but  if  on  top  of  all  you 
mean  to  turn  pious " 

He  laughed,   and  when   the  laugh   was  done,    it 

^63 


POISON    ISLAND 

seemed    to    prolong    itself    inside    him    for    a    full 
minute. 

"  You  are  right,  ma'am.  Let  us  be  practical 
again ;  and,  as  the  first  practical  question,  let  me  ask 
you,  or  Captain  Branscome,  what  you  propose  to  do 
with  this  man  ?  Obviously,  we  cannot  take  him  along 
with  us  after  the  treasure." 

"  Well,  I  imagine  we  are  returning  to  the  schooner. 
He  can  be  left  on  board,  in  charge  of  Mr.  Rogers." 

"  But  I  was  about  to  suggest  that  we  take  Mr.  Rog- 
ers along  with  us.  In  some  ways,  he  is  the  most 
active  of  the  party,  and  we  can  hardly  spare  him." 

"  Of  Goodfellow,  then,  or  whomsoever  Captain 
Branscome  may  appoint  to  take  charge  of  the  ship." 

The  doctor  sat  silent,  as  though  busy  with  a  thought 
that  had  suddenly  occurred  to  him.  After  a  minute, 
he  lifted  his  head  and  threw  a  quick  glance  upward  at 
the  sky. 

"  The  breeze  is  springing  up  again,  captain,"  he  an- 
nounced. "  If  you  care  to  hoist  sail,  the  rowers  can 
take  a  rest,  at  least  until  we  reach  Cape  Fea." 

Captain  Branscome  gave  permission  to  hoist  sail, 
and  soon  we  were  running  homeward  with  as  much  as 
we  could  carry.  There  was  no  danger,  however,  for 
beyond  the  northern  point  of  Try-again  Inlet,  the 
water  lay  smooth  all  along  the  shore.  Dr.  Beaure- 
gard here  called  on  Plinny  to  admire  the  scenery, 

364 


DR.    BEAUPwEGARD'S    HOUSE 

and,  borrowing  her  sketch-Look  and  pencil,  dashed  off 
a  bold  drawing  of  Cape  Eea  as,  rounding  a  little  to 
the  westward,  we  caught  sight  of  it  standing  out 
boldly  against  the  afternoon  sun.  As  he  drew  it,  he 
guided  the  talk  gently  back  to  ordinary  topics — to 
England  and  English  scenery,  to  the  charm  of  Eng- 
lish domestic  architecture,  and  particularly  of  our 
great  country  seats,  to  gardens  and  gardening,  of 
which  he  professed  himself  a  devotee.  He  spoke  of 
the  difficulty  he  had  found  in  growing  roses,  and  of 
the  few  roses  that  would  endure  tropical  heat.  In 
short,  our  expedition  had  become  a  picnic  again,  and 
only  the  unconscious  Glass  reminded  us  of  our  experi- 
ences, and  what  we  had  left  behind  in  the  bush. 

"  Ah,"  he  sighed  at  length,  drawing  a  long  breath ; 
"  if  you,  my  friends,  only  knew  how  much  of  what  is 
happiest  in  life  you  carry  in  your  own  breasts!  I 
used — forgive  me — to  laugh  at  such  pleasures  as  I 
am  enjoying  at  this  moment.  I  see  that  nothing  but 
gayety  and  a  simple  heart  can  bring  a  man  peace  at 
the  last — and  now  it  is  too  late  to  begin !  " 

Plinny,  not  understanding  in  the  least,  opened  wide 
eyes  upon  him.    His  tone  seemed  to  ask  for  her  pity. 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  have  sought  hard  for  pleasure  and 
grudged  no  price  for  it ;  but  the  stuff  I  bought  was  all 
flash  and  sham — like  this  fool's  diamonds — flash 
and    sham,    and    the    end    of    it    weariness.      Well, 

365 


POISOX    ISLAND 

there  is  money  left.  You  shall  take  it  and  endow  a 
hospital  if  you  choose,  and  that  no  doubt  will  increase 
your  happiness  and  make  it  thrive.  But  the  root  of 
the  plant  lies  within  you.  Pardon  me,  ma'am  " — 
he  looked  towards  Miss  Belcher  —  "  the  question 
sounds  an  impudent  one,  I  know,  but  are  you  not, 
even  for  England,  a  well-to-do  lady?  " 

"  I  have  a  trifle  more  than  my  neighbors,"  owned 
Miss  Belcher.     "  But  it's  almost  more  plague  than 
blessing;  at  least  I  call  it  so,  sometimes,  which  is  a 
different  thing  from  being  ready  to  give  it  up." 
"  And  you,  ma'am  ?  "     He  turned  to  Plinny. 
"  I  have  enough  for  my  needs,  I  thank  God,"  she 
answered.    "  But  I  have  known  what  it  is  to  be  poor." 
"  Quite  so,"  he  nodded.    "  And  yet  you  have  come 
thousands  of  miles,  you  two,  in  search  of  treasure !  " 
At  the  entrance  of  Gow's  Gulf  we  downed  sail  and 
took  to  our  paddles  again.  The  tide  helped  us  against 
the  breeze  and  within  half  an  hour  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  schooner  lying  peacefully  at  anchor  as  we  had 
left  her. 

So,  at  least,  and  at  first  glance,  it  seemed ;  but  as  we 
drew  near,  Captain  Branscome  stood  up  suddenly,  the 
tiller-lines  in  his  hands. 

"  Hallo !    Where's  the  dinghy  ?  " 
It  was  gone;  and — what  was  worse — our  repeated 
hails  fetched  no  answering  hail  from  the  ship.     But 

366 


DR.    BEAUREGARD'S    HOUSE 

just  as  we  were  beginning  to  feel  seriously  alarmed 
a  voice  shouted  from  the  opposite  shore,  and  Mr. 
Rogers  came  sculling  out  from  the  shadow  of  the 
woods,  working  the  dinghy  towards  us  with  a  single 
paddle  over  stern. 

"  Sorry,  Captain !  "  he  hailed.  "  Two  deserters  in 
two  days !    Oh,  we're  a  cheerful  team  to  drive !    But 

I  have  my  excuse  ready.     The  fact  is "     Here, 

catching  sight  of  Dr.  Beauregard,  Mr.  Rogers  stopped 
short. 

"  I  fancy,"  said  the  Doctor  amiably,  turning  to 
Captain  Branscome,  "  your  friend  has  not  his  excuse 
so  ready  as  he  supposed.  Doubtless  he'll  impart  it 
to  you,  later  on.  Meanwhile,  I  would  suggest  that 
we  take  him  along  with  us." 

"  But  where  are  we  going  ?  "  asked  Captain  Brans- 
come. 

"  To  my  house.  Ah,  it  is  news  to  you  that  I  have 
one  ?  You  supposed,  perhaps,  that  the  Lord  Pro- 
prietor of  Mortallone  roosted  at  night  in  the  trees  ? 
But  where,  in  that  case,  would  he  stock  his  wine? 
My  dear  sir,  I  have  a  house,  and  cellarage,  to  the  both 
of  which  you  shall  be  made  welcome.  Even  if  you 
decline  my  hospitality  we  have  the  invalid  here  to 
dispose  of,  and  surely  you  won't  condemn  a  man  of 
my  years  to  carry  him  home  pick-a-back !  " 

"  But  the  schooner " 

367 


POISON    LSLAXT) 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  sir,  that  your  ship 
shall  not  be  visited  nor  tampered  with  in  any  way. 
Keturn  when  you  will,  you  shall  find  her  precisely  as 
she  lies  now.  In  another  two  hours  even  this  faint 
breeze  will  have  died  down,  as  you  are  seaman  enough 
to  know.  The  anchorage  is  land-locked;  the  bottom 
is  perfect  holding;  and  as  for  unwelcome  visitors, 
there  can  be  none.  I  am  the  sole  resident  on  this 
island !  " 

I  looked  up  at  Dr.  Beauregard  sharply;  and  so,  it 
seemed  to  me,  did  Mr.  Rogers,  who  had  fallen  along- 
side. 

"  That  is  to  say,"  continued  the  Doctor  quietly 
without  regarding  either  of  us,  "  the  only  male  resi- 
dent." 

"  All  the  same  I  don't  like  it,"  persisted  the  Cap- 
tain, and  shook  his  head,  at  the  same  time  lifting  his 
eyes  towards  Miss  Belcher;  and  it's  clear  against 
my  rule." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense !  "  said  Miss  Belcher.  "  We 
ought  to  be  grateful  to  Dr.  Beauregard  for  taking 
this  creature  Glass  off  our  hands.  I  was  thinking  a 
moment  ago  that  for  a  thousand  pounds  I'd  rather  he 
was  anywhere  than  on  board  our  ship.  The  least  we 
can  do  is  to  bear  a  hand  with  him;  and  if  we  don't 
like  the  house  we  can  come  away." 

"  And  before  nightfall,  if  you  insist,"  added  Dr. 

368 


DR.    BEAUREGARD'S    HOUSE 

Beauregard  genially.  "  But  the  afternoon  is  young, 
and  between  now  and  nightfall  you  may  all  have 
made  your  fortunes.     Who  knows  ?  " 

Captain  Branscome  yielded,  after  a  look  at  Plinny, 
who  backed  up  Miss  Belcher,  declaring  herself  ar- 
dent for  new  adventures.  I  began  to  see  that  the 
Captain  was  wax  in  the  hands  of  these  two,  and  it 
puzzled  me,  who  had  some  experience  of  him  both  in 
school  and  on  shipboard. 

Instead,  then,  of  heading  for  the  ship,  we  rowed 
past  her  and  up  the  creek — Mr.  Rogers  following  in 
his  dinghy — and  disembarked  at  the  landing-place 
under  the  green  knoll.  While  Dr.  Beauregard  and 
Mr.  Goodfellow  lifted  out  Aaron  Glass,  and  while 
the  Captain  explained  to  Mr.  Rogers  where  and  how 
we  came  by  such  a  passenger,  I  stared  about  me,  won- 
dering where  the  Doctor's  house  might  be  and  where 
the  approach  to  it.  For  I  remembered  the  narrow 
gorge  leading  up  to  the  waterfalls  and  the  thick,  pre- 
cipitous woods  on  either  hand;  and  how  such  a  party 
as  ours,  including  two  ladies  and  a  sick  man,  could 
hope  to  penetrate  those  woods  or  climb  those  water- 
falls was  a  puzzle  to  me. 

In  ten  minutes  Mr.  Goodfellow  had  patched  up  a 
fairly  serviceable  litter  with  the  boat's  sail  and  a  cou- 
ple of  paddles.  Dr.  Beauregard  bestowed  the  patient 
in  it  carefully  enough,  and,  when  all  was  ready,  led 

369 


POISON    ISLAXD 

the  way.  The  two  carriers,  Mr.  Rogers  and  Mr. 
Goodfellow,  came  next  with  the  litter  between  them, 
and  at  a  nod  from  the  former  I  fell  in  beside 
him.  The  Captain  and  the  two  ladies  brought  up 
the  rear. 

"  Harry,"  whispered  Mr.  Eogers,  as  we  wound  our 
way  round  the  knoll,  "  is  this  really  the  man 
who " 

''  This  is  Aaron  Glass,"  I  said. 

He  stared  down — for  he  carried  the  hinder  end  of 
the  litter — upon  the  villanous,  unconscious  face. 

"  He  looks  a  pretty  bad  one,"  said  Mr.  Rogers, 
after  a  pause. 

"  You  should  have  seen  him  on  the  beach,"  said  I. 

"  I've  seen  something  myself,"  said  he.  "  Closer, 
boy — there  was  a  woman  came  down  to  the  shore  just 
now,  waving  to  the  ship  and  crying.  At  first  I  took 
her  for  a  child.  She  was  dressed  all  in  white — white 
muslin  and  ribbons,  you  know — the  sort  of  rig  you 
see  at  a  children's  party;  but  when  I  rowed  over  close 
to  her " 

"  I  know  her/'  I  said.  "  I  met  her  in  the  woods 
yesterday." 

"  That  explains;  though  I  call  it  an  infernal  shame 
you  didn't  tell.  I  rowed  across  to  find  out  what  ailed 
her,  she  stood  waving  her  arms  so,  and  crying — like 
a  child  in  distress.    When  I  came  near  she  called  out 

370 


DR.    BEAUREGARD'S    HOUSE 

to  me  to  stop.  '  Not  you/  she  said,  '  the  little  boy ! 
Where  is  the  little  boy  ?  '  I  told  her  that  we  had  a 
boy  on  board,  but  that  just  now  you  were  off  on  a 
cruise ;  and  with  that  she  turned  right  about,  and  ran 
up  through  the  woods  and  out  of  sight ;  but  for  some 
way  I  could  hear  her  crying  and  calling  out  just  as 
before :  '  The  little  boy !  '  It  was,  '  Where  is  the  little 
boy? ' — meaning  you,  I  suppose." 

We  were  now  come  to  the  foot  of  the  first  waters 
fall,  an  obvious  cul  de  sac  for  a  party  which  included 
two  ladies  and  a  sick  man  on  a  litter.  I  stood  gazing 
up  at  the  wet,  slippery  rocks  by  which  I  had  made 
my  ascent  yesterday,  and  searching  in  vain  for  a 
more  practicable  path.  Dr.  Beauregard  halted  and 
turned  upon  me  with  a  smile. 

"  A  moment,"  said  he,  "  and  you  will  grant  that 
my  privacy  is  rather  neatly  protected.  But  first " — 
he  pointed  to  the  water  pouring  past  us  from  the  pool 
beneath  the  fall — "  you  may  remark  that  the  stream 
here  has  more  than  twice  the  volume  of  the  stream 
you  see  coming  down  the  rocks." 

I  looked.  The  difference  was  plain  enough,  and  I 
had  been  a  fool  in  failing  to  observe  it. 

"  The  reason  being,"  he  went  on,  "  that  a  second 
and  larger  stream  flows  into  the  pool  under  the  very 
stones  on  which  you  are  standing.  I  myself  laid  that 
channel  for  it,  almost  ten  years  ago,  and  Nature  has 

371 


POISON    ISLAND 

very  kindly  helped  to  disguise  it.     Now,  if  you  will 
follow  me " 

He  drew  aside  a  mat  of  creepers  overhanging  a 
bush  to  the  left  of  the  path,  and,  stooping,  disap- 
peared into  a  dim,  green  tunnel,  so  artfully  con- 
trived that  even  without  its  curtain  of  creepers  it 
suggested  no  more  than  a  chance  gap  in  the  under- 
growth. The  tunnel  zigzagged  twice  at  a  sharp 
angle,  and  then,  quite  suddenly,  the  dimness  changed 
to  warm  sunlight,  and  we  emerged  at  his  heels  upon 
a  prospect  that  well  excused  my  gasp  of  astonish- 
ment. 

We  stood  at  the  lower  end  of  a  smooth,  green 
glade,  through  which  a  broad  stream — a  river,  almost 
— came  swirling,  its  murmur  drowned  in  the  thun- 
der of  the  waterfall  behind  us,  w^hich  the  bushes  now 
concealed.  The  glade  w^as,  in  fact,  a  valley -bottom, 
thinned  of  undergrowth  and  set  with  tall  trees;  and 
the  stream  such  a  stream  as  tumbles  through  many 
an  English  deer-park.  The  whole  scene  might  have 
been  transplanted  from  England  but  for  a  wall  of 
naked  cliff,  sharply  serrated,  which  enclosed  the  val- 
ley on  the  left.  And  under  it,  like  a  smooth  military 
terrace  at  the  foot  of  a  fortress,  the  glade  curved  up- 
wards and  out  of  sight. 

The  scene,  I  have  said,  was  almost  typically  Eng- 
lish— but  to  the  eye  only. 

372 


DK.    BEAUREGAKD'S    HOUSE 

"  Faugh !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Belcher,  looking  about 
her  and  sniffing  suspiciously.  "  A  pretty  place 
enough,  but  full  of  malaria,  or  I'm  a  Dutchwoman.! 
And  what  a  horrible  silence !  " 

This  was  true  enough.  The  woods  of  Mortallone 
are  beautiful,  but  silent.  The  island  has  no  birds 
but  the  gulls  and  seafowl  haunting  its  keys  and 
beaches,  and  these  wheel  and  wheel  about  it  but  never 
fly  across  the  interior. 

"  Malaria  ?  "  said  Mr.  Rogers  quietly.  "  There's 
better  scent  than  malaria  in  this  valley,  and  we're 

hot  on  it.    Here's  the  river,  and What  does  the 

chart  say,  boy  ?  Eive  trees,  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  creek-head  ?  We  must  have  come  a  mile  already. 
Keep  your  eyes  skinned,  and  give  me  a  nudge  if  you 
see  such  a  clump." 

But  there  was  no  need  to  keep  my  eyes  skinned. 
At  the  next  bend  of  the  glade  he  and  I  caught  sight 
of  it  simultaneously — a  clump  of  noble  pines  that 
would  have  challenged  notice  even  had  we  not  been 
searching  for  them.  My  heart  stood  still  as  I  counted 
them.     Yes ;  there  were  five ! 

"  I  haven't  often  wanted  to  put  a  knife  into  a 
man's  back,"  grunted  Mr.  Rogers,  with  a  gloomy 
glance  ahead  at  Dr.  Beauregard. 

For  an  instant  I  made  sure  the  Doctor  had  over- 
heard him.     He  halted  suddenly,  and  turned  to  me 

373 


POISON    ISLAND 

with  a  proprietary  wave  of  the  hand  towards  the 
trees. 

y  "  A  fine  group,  sirs,  is  it  not  ?  I  have  often  re- 
gretted that  the  cliff  yonder  just  cuts  off  the  view  of 
it  from  my  windows,  Indeed,  I  had  almost  altered 
the  site  of  the  house  to  include  it.  But  health  before 
everything — hey,  ladies?  There  is  always  a  certain 
amount  of  fever  in  these  valleys,  and  you  will  own, 
presently,  that  the  site  I  prepared  has  its  compensa- 
tions." 

He  resumed  his  waj^  past  the  trees,  and — a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  beyond  them — past  an  angle  of  the  cliff 
where  the  ridge  bent  sharply  back  from  the  river 
and  revealed  a  narrow  gorge,  its  entrance  choked 
with  pines,  running  up  towards  the  mountain.  Here 
he  paused  again,  and  with  another  wave  of  the  hand. 

High  on  the  right  of  the  gorge,  on  a  plateau  above 
the  dark  pine-tops,  a  white-painted  house  looked 
down  on  us — a  long,  low  house  with  a  generous 
spread  of  shadow  under  its  veranda  and  a  dazzle  of 
light  where  the  upper  windows  took  the  sun. 


374 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 


WE    FIND    THE    TREASURE 


a  T>, 


I've  a  strong  sense  of  the  right  of  property," 
said  Miss  Belcher,  sipping  her  tea. 

We  had  gathered  in  Dr.  Beauregard's  deep  veran- 
da, at  the  corner  where  it  took  the  late  afternoon 
sunshine.  The  level  rays  sparkled  on  the  silver  and 
delicate  Worcester  china  of  the  Doctor's  tea  equi- 
page, and  fell  through  the  open  French  window  into 
the  Doctor's  drawing-room.  A  Avonderful  room  it 
was,  as  everything  in  the  house  was  wonderful;  a 
spacious,  airy  room,  furnished  in  white  and  gold, 
with  Dresden  figures  on  the  mantelshelf,  Venetian 
mirrors,  dainty  water-colors  sunk  into  the  panels, 
cases  of  rare  books  (among  them,  as  I  remember,  a 
set  of  the  Cabinet  des  Fees,  bound  in  rose-colored 
morocco  and  stamped  with  the  Royal  arms  of 
France),  stands  of  music,  and  a  priceless  harpsichord 
inlaid  with  ivory.  Next  to  the  airiness  of  the  house, 
which  stood  high  above  reach  of  the  valley  mists  with 
their  malaria,  what  most  sharply  impressed  me,  and 


o  ( a 


POISOX    ISLAXD 

the  ladies  in  particular,  was  its  exquisite  cleanliness. 
Yet  Dr.  Beauregard  assured  us  that  he  kept  but  one 
servant — the  negress  Rosa. 

At  her  master's  call  she  had  appeared  in  the  veran- 
da above  us  as  we  mounted  the  last  terrace  towards 
the  house,  and  had  stood  there  watching  our  ascent 
with  no  trace  of  surprise,  or,  indeed,  of  any  emotion 
whatever,  on  her  black,  inscrutable  face.  Her  eyes 
met  mine  as  though  she  had  never  seen  me  before. 
To  her  care  Dr.  Beauregard  had  given  over  the  still 
unconscious  Glass,  and,  with  a  sign  to  Mr.  Rogers 
and  Mr.  Goodfellow  to  follow  her  with  their  burden, 
she  had  led  the  way  through  the  house  to  the  bedroom 
at  the  back.  There,  in  a  bed  between  spotlessly  clean 
sheets,  they  had  laid  the  patient,  and  been  dismissed 
by  her.  It  was  she  who,  less  than  ten  minutes  later, 
had  brought  our  tea  to  us  in  the  veranda,  and  with 
our  tea  many  little  plates  heaped  with  small  cakes 
and  sweetmeats — all  fresh,  as  though  she  had  been 
expecting  us  for  hours  and  could  command  the  re- 
sources of  a  city.  I  kept  a  sharp  look-out,  but  of  the 
strange  lady — the  lady  of  the  graveyard — I  could  de- 
tect no  trace.  Nothing  indicated  her  presence,  unless 
it  were  the  dainty  feminine  furniture  of  the  drawing- 
room. 

"  I've  a  strong  sense  of  the  right  of  property,"  said 
Miss  Belcher,  sipping  her  tea  and  touching  the  oil- 

376 


WE    FIND    THE    TREASURE 

skin  wrapper,  which  lay  in  her  lap  unopened  as  Cap- 
tain Branscome  had  handed  it  to  her ;  "  and  so  has 
Jack  Rogers  here.  You  tell  me,  sir,  that  you  hold 
Mortallone  by  grant,  and  doubtless  you  can  show 
your  title." 

"  Willingly^  madam."  Dr.  Beauregard  rose,  and 
stepped  to  the  French  window.  "  You  can  read 
Spanish,  madam  ? "  he  ^sked^  turning  there  and 
pausing. 

"  Not  a  word/'  answered  Miss  Belcher. 

The  Doctor  smiled. 

"  It  would  impart  nothing  if  you  could,"  said  he, 
with  a  smile,  "  for  I  will  oWn  to  you  fi*ankly  that 
Mortallone  has  always  been  under  suspicion  of  con- 
taining treasure,  and  in  the  grant  all  treasure-trove 
is  expressly  reserved.  I  cannot  say,"  he  addedj  smil- 
ing again,  "  that  I  have  strictly  observed  the  clause ; 
but,  as  between  you  and  me,  it  legally  disposes  of  my 
claim." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Miss  Belcher ;  "  but  I  don't 
own  an  equally  tender  conscience  towards  Govern- 
ments." Here,  Mr.  Rogers  winked  at  me,  for  as  a 
patron  of  smugglers  Miss  Belcher  enjoyed  some  repu- 
tation, even  for  a  Cornish  landowner.  "  We  will 
leave  Government  out  of  the  question;  but  as  pro- 
prietor— lord  of  the  manor,  as  we  should  say  at 
home — you  have  a  right  to  your  share ;   and  that, 

377 


POISON    ISLAND 

by  English  law — which  I  suggest  we  follow — is 
one-third." 

Dr.  Beauregard  bowed. 

"  I'm  infinitely  obliged  to  you,  ma'am,  and  I  make 
no  doubt  that  what  you  so  generously  promise  you 
will  as  honorably  give — when  I  claim  it.  In  truth, 
I  have  something  more  than  enough  for  my  needs. 
There  was  a  time  (I  will  confess)  when  I  had  sold 
my  soul,  if  I  possessed  such  a  thing,  for  a  glimpse  of 
what  lies  written  on  that  parchment.     But  I  am  old ; 

and  old  age "    He  broke  off  the  sentence  and  did 

not  resume  it ;  but  went  on  presently,  with  a  change 
of  tone :  "  However,  I  still  keep  a  sporting  interest 
in  the  treasure,  which  has  baffled  me  all  these  years, 
the  more  so  because  I  have  a  shrewd  suspicion  that 
it  has  lain  all  the  while  within  a  mile  or  so  of  where 
we  sit  at  this  moment." 

"  It  does,  sir,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  unfolding  the 
chart  and  pointing. 

Dr.  Beauregard  adjusted  a  pair  of  gold-rimmed 
eyeglasses  and  bent  towards  it.  The  writing  was  in- 
distinct, and  he  put  out  a  hand  as  if  to  take  hold  of 
the  edge  of  the  parchment  and  steady  it.  The  hand, 
I  noticed,  did  not  tremble  at  all. 

"  Stay  a  moment,  sir."  Miss  Belcher  turned  the 
chart  over.  "  The  clew  is  given  here,  upon  the  back. 
Listen."     And  she  translated : 

378 


WE    ri:N^D    THE    TKEASURE 

"  '  Right  bank  of  river  a  mile  and  a  half  up  from  Gow 
Creek.  Centre  tree  in  clump  of  five :  branch  bearing  north 
and  half  a  point  east:  two  forks ' " 

"  My  trees !  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "  You  re- 
member my  halting  and  pointing  them  out  to  you? 
Ah,  yes,  and  I,  too,  remember  now  that  you  ap- 
peared to  be  disconcerted.  You  recognized  them,  of 
course  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  recognized  them,"  Miss  Belcher  ad- 
mitted.    "  But  let  me  finish : 

"  *  Right  fork,  four  feet.  Red  cave  under  hill,  four  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  yards  from  foot  of  tree,  N.N.W.  The 
stones  here,  under  rock  four  spans,  left  side  ' 

— which  means,  I  suppose,  that  the  cave  lies  some 
way  up  the  face  of  the  rock,  and  can  only  be  seen  by 
climbing  out  upon  the  right  fork  of  the  tree;  and 
that  the  stones — that  is  to  say,  the  jewels — are  hid- 
den under  a  rock  to  the  left,  which  rock  either  meas- 
ures four  spans  or  lies  four  spans  within  the  entrance 
of  the  cave." 

"  I  know  of  no  such  cave,  ma'am,"  said  Dr.  Beau- 
regard, bending  his  brows.  "  Though,  to  be  sure,  the 
cliff  is  of  a  reddish  color  thereabouts,  due  to  a  drip 
of  water  and  the  growth  of  some  small  fungus." 

"  I  was  a  fool,"  said  Captain  Branscome,  "  to 
leave  the  tools  in  the  gig.     If  we  go  back  to  fetch 

379 


POISOX    ISLAND 

them,  sunset  will  be  upon  us  before  ever  we  get  to 
work," 

The  Doctor  rose,  with  a  smile. 

"  You  might  have  guessed,  sir,  that  I  am  not  un- 
provided with  spades  and  picks,  or  with  ropes  and  a 
ladder,  which  also  I  foresee  we  shall  need.  Come,  if 
you  have  drunk  your  tea,  I  will  ask  you  to  follow  me 
into  the  house — the  ladies  included — and  choose 
your  outfit." 

They  went  in  after  him.  I  was  in  the  act  of  fol- 
lowing— I  had,  in  fact,  taken  a  couple  of  steps  tow- 
ards the  French  window  —  when  a  slight  shiver 
seemed  to  run  through  my  hair,  and  I  stood  still. 

"  Little  boy !  " 

The  words  came  in  a  whisper  from  the  end  of  the 
veranda.  I  stole  back,  and,  leaning  well  across  the 
rail,  peered  around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

"  Little  boy !  "  whispered  the  voice  again,  and  I 
saw  the  little  lady  of  the  graveyard.  She  was  stand- 
ing close  back  against  the  side-boarding,  her  body 
almost  flattened  against  it.  "  Come,"  she  whispered, 
beckoning  with  a  timid  glance  over  her  shoulder  tow- 
ards the  rear  of  the  house. 

I  looked  at  her  for  a  second  or  two,  and  shook  my 
head. 

"  But  you  must  come,"  she  insisted,  still  in  a  whis- 
per, and  took  a  step  or  two  as  if  to  entice  me  after 

380 


WE    FIND    THE    TREASURE 

her.     Then  she  halted,  and,  seeing  that  I  made  no 
motion  to  follow,  came  a  step  back. 

"  If  you  do  not  come,"  she  said,  "  he  will  kill  you  ! 
He  will  sar-tain-ly  kill  you  all  I  " 

She  nodded  vehemently,  and  so,  after  another 
glance  to  left  and  right,  beckoned  to  me  once  again. 
Her  face  was  white,  almost,  as  her  muslin  frock,  and 
something  in  it  persuaded  me  to  climb  over  the  veran- 
da-rail and  follow  her. 

About  thirty  yards  from  the  corner  of  the  house 
stood  a  clump  of  odorous  laurels,  the  scent  of  which 
we  had  been  inhaling  while  we  sat  at  tea.  For  these 
she  broke  away  at  a  run,  nor  looked  back  until  she 
was  well  within  their  shelter  and  I  had  overtaken 
her. 

"  Good  boy !  "  she  said,  nodding  again  and  smiling 
at  me  with  her  desperately  anxious  face.  "  I  would 
wish — I  would  very  much  wish — to  kiss  you.  But 
you  mus'  not  come  a-near  " — she  sighed — "  it  is  not 
healthy.  Only  you  come  with  me.  I  dream  of  you, 
sometimes,  all  las'  night.  What  a  pity !  I  dream, 
and  you  so  pe-ritty  boy !  Now  you  come  with  me, 
and  I  take  you  away  so  he  never  find  you." 

The  woman  was  evidently  mad. 

"  Please  tell  me  what  you  have  to  say,"  I  urged, 
"  and  let  me  go  back.  They  will  be  missing  me  in 
a  minute  or  so." 

381 


POISON    ISLAND 


(( 


If  they  miss  you,  it  is  no  matter  now.  He  will 
kill  them  all,  he  is  so  strong  ...  as  he  killed  all 
those  others  .  .  .  you  remember  ?  See,  now,  pe-ritty 
hoy,  what  I  have  done  for  you,  to  save  you  from 
him !  He  shut  me  up,  in  his  other  house — he  has 
another  house  away  up  in  the  woods,  beyond  where 
we  met."  She  waved  a  hand  towards  the  hills.  "  But 
I  break  out,  and  come  here  to  save  you.  He  would 
kill  me  also,  if  he  knew." 

Mad  though  I  believed  her,  I  was  growing  pretty 
thoroughly  frightened,  remembering  the  graveyard 
under  the  trees. 

"  You  forget  my  friends,"  said  I,  speaking  very 
simply,  as  to  a  child.  "  If  he  means  to  kill  them,  I 
ought  to  carry  them  warning." 

"  He  will  not  kill  them  till  to-night,"  she  an- 
swered, shaking  her  head.  "  It  is  always  at  night- 
time, when  they  are  at  supper.  There  is  no  hurry, 
little  boy;  but  he  will  sar-tain-ly  kill  them,  all  the 


same." 


I  turned  my  head,  preparing  to  run,  for  I  heard 
Captain  Branscome's  voice  in  the  veranda,  calling 
my  name. 

"  They  arc  starting  after  the  treasure.  I  must 
go,"  I  stammered. 

She  drew  close,  and  laid  a  hand  on  my  arm. 
Again  a  dreadful  odor  was  wafted  under  my  nostrils 

382 


WE    FIND    THE    TREASURE 

— an  odor  as  of  tuberoses,  and  I  know  not  what  of 
corruption  —  and,  as  before  in  the  graveyard,  it 
turned  me  both  sick  and  giddy. 

"  They  will  not  find  it,"  she  said,  nodding  with  an 
air  of  childish  triumph.  "  Shall  I  tell  you  why  ?  I 
have  hidden  it !  "  Here  she  fell  back  on  her  old  lit- 
any. "  He  would  kill  me  if  he  knew  ...  I  hid  it 
— oh,  years  ago !  But  come,  and  I  will  show  you ; 
and  you  shall  take  a  great  deal — yes,  as  much  as  you 
can  carry — if  only  you  will  go  away,  and  never  be 
rash  again." 

A  second  time  I  heard  Captain  Branscome's  voice 
calling  to  me,  demanding  to  know  where  I  had  disap- 
peared. 

She  put  a  finger  to  her  lips,  smiling.  "  Such 
treasure  you  never  did  see.  .  .  .  Even  Rosa  does  not 
know.  .  .  .  Come,  little  boy !  " 

She  pushed  her  way  through  the  laurels,  and  I  fol- 
lowed her.  The  edge  of  the  shrubbery  overhung  the 
dry  bed  of  a  torrent,  in  the  cleft  of  which,  when  we 
had  lowered  ourselves,  over  the  edge,  we  were  com- 
pletely hidden  from  the  house.  From  the  edge  a 
slope  of  loose  stones  ran  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
cleft,  where  a  thin  stream  of  water  trickled.  The 
stones  slid  with  me,  but  not  dangerously ;  and  as  we 
scurried  down — I  in  my  thick  boots,  she  in  her  di- 
minutive   dancing-shoes  —  I    heard    Plinny's    voice 

383 


POISON    ISLAND 

join  with  Captain  Branscome's  in  calling  my 
name.  But  by  this  time  I  was  committed  to  the 
adventure,  and  by  and  by  they  desisted,  suppos- 
ing (as  Plinny  told  me  later)  that  I  had  taken 
French  leave  again,  and  run  oif  to  be  first  at  the 
clump  of  trees. 

We  might  not  climb  the  slope  directly  in  face  of 
us;  for,  by  so  doing  (even  if  it  had  been  accessible, 
which  I  doubt),  we  should  have  emerged  into  view. 
We  therefore  bent  our  way  to  the  right  up  the  bottom 
of  the  gorge,  to  a  narrow  tongue  of  rock  dividing  it, 
in  the  shelter  of  which  w^e  mounted  the  rough  stair- 
way of  the  torrent  bed,  from  one  flat  rock  to  another, 
until  we  stepped  out  upon  a  shallow  plateau  where 
the  contour  of  the  hills  shut  oif  the  house  and  its  ter- 
races. We  stood,  as  I  judged,  upon  the  reverse  or 
northern  side  of  that  ridge  which  to  the  south  and 
west  overlooked  the  valley  of  the  treasure.  Above 
the  plateau  a  stone-strewn  scarp  of  earth  led  to  the 
forest,  which  reached  to  the  very  summit  of  the 
ridge ;  and  towards  the  summit,  after  pausing  for  a 
second  or  two  to  pant  and  catch  her  breath,  my 
strange  guide  continued  her  climb. 

"  What  is  your  name,  little  boy  ?  " 

I  told  her,  and  she  repeated  it  once  or  twice,  to  get 
it  by  heart. 

"  You  may  call  me  'Metta,"  she  said.     "  He  calls 

384 


WE    FIND    THE    TREASURE 

me  'Metta  always,  when  he  is  pleased  with  me,  and 
that  is  almost  every  day.  He  is  kind  to  me ;  oh,  yes, 
very  kind — though  terrible  of  course.  .  .  .  Keep  on 
my  left  hand,  Harry  Brooks ;  so  the  breeze  here  will 
not  blow  from  me  to  you." 

I  drew  up  in  a  kind  of  giddiness,  for  that  dreadful 
scent  of  death  had  touched  me  again.  She,  too, 
halted  with  a  little  cry  of  dismay,  and  a  feeble  mo- 
tion of  the  hands,  as  if  to  wring  them. 

"  Ah,  you  must  keep  wide  of  me.  .  .  .  That  is 
my  suffering,  Harry  Brooks.  I  cannot  bend  over  a 
flower  but  it  withers,  and  the  butterflies  die  if  they 
come  near  my  breath  .  .  .  and  that,  too,  is  his  doing. 
He  would  be  kind  to  me,  he  said,  and  would  een- 
oculate  me ;  yes,  that  is  his  word — een-oculate  me,  so 
that  no  poison  could  ever  harm  me.  He  knows  the 
secrets  of  all  the  plants,  and  why  people  die  of  dis- 
ease. Months  at  a  time  he  used  to  leave  me  alone 
with  Rosa,  and  go  to  Havana,  to  the  hospitals ;  and 
there  he  would  study  till  his  body  was  wasted  away 
with  work ;  but  at  the  end  he  would  come  back,  bring- 
ing visitors.  Oh,  many  visitors  !  for  he  was  rich,  and 
the  house  had  room  for  all.  There  were  singers — he 
loves  music — and  men  who  played  all  day  at  cards 
and  women  who  made  me  jealous.  But  he  would 
only  laugh  and  say,  '  Wait,  little  one.'  So  I  waited, 
and  in  the  end  they  all  died.     Rosa  said  it  was  the 

385 


POISOX    ISLAND 

yellow  fever;  but  no."  She  held  up  both  hands,  and 
made  pretence  to  pour  something  from  an  imaginary 
"bottle  into  an  imaginary  glass.  "  He  can  kill  with 
one  tiny  drop.  In  his  study  he  keeps  a  machine 
which  makes  water  into  ice.  Rosa  would  carry  round 
the  ice  with  little  glasses  of  curagoa,  after  the  coffee 
was  served ;  and  all  would  say :  '  What  wonders  are 
these  ?  Ice  in  Mortallone ! '  and  would  drink  his 
health.  But  Tie  never  touched  the  ice.  You  tell  that 
to  your  friends,  little  boy.  But  it  will  not  save  them : 
for  he  will  find  some  other  way." 

As  we  went  up  the  woods  these  awful  confidences 
poured  from  her  like  childish  prattle,  interrupted 
only  by  little  ripples  of  laughter,  half  shy,  half  silly, 
and  altogether  horrible  to  hear.  I  hung  back,  di- 
vided between  the  impulse  to  tear  myself  away  and 
the  fearful  fascination  of  listening  —  between  the 
urgent  need  to  find  and  warn  my  friends,  and  the  for- 
lorn hope  to  extract  from  her  something  that  might 
save  them.  The  toil  of  the  climb  had  bathed  me  in 
sweat,  and  yet  I  shivered. 

I  halted.  We  were  close  under  the  summit  of  the 
ridge,  and  had  reached  a  passing  clearing  where  be- 
tween the  trees,  as  I  turned  about,  I  could  see  the 
whole  gorge  in  shadow  at  my  feet,  the  sunlight  warm 
on  its  upper  eastern  slopes,  and  beyond  these  the  sea. 
In    half    an    hour — in   twenty   minutes,    maybe — I 

386 


WE    ri^D    THE    TREASURE 

might  reach  the  valley  there  below,  and  at  least 
cry  my  warning.  I  faced  round  again  to  my 
companion. 

She  had  vanished ! 

My  mouth  grew  dry  of  a  sudden.  Was  she  a 
ghost  ?  And  her  prattling  talk — the  voice  yet  sing- 
ing in  my  brain — 

"Little  boy!    Little  boy!" 

I  parted  the  tall  ferns.  Beyond  them  a  small  hand 
beckoned,  and,  following  it,  I  came  face  to  face  with 
a  wall  of  naked  rock  from  which  she  lifted  aside  the 
creepers  over  a  deep  cleft  —  a  cleft  wide  enough 
to  admit  a  man's  body  if  he  turned  sideways  and 
stooped  a  little. 

She  clapped  her  hands  at  my  astonishment. 

"  You  like  my  bower  ? "  she  asked  gleefully. 
"  Ah,  but  wait,  and  I  will  show  you  wonders !  No 
one  knows  of  it,  not  even  Rosa." 

She  wriggled  her  way  through  the  cleft.  I  peered 
in,  and  went  after  her  cautiously,  expecting,  as  the 
curtain  of  creepers  fell  behind  me,  to  find  myself  in 
a  dark  cave  or  grotto.  Dark  it  was,  to  be  sure,  but 
not  utterly  dark ;  and  to  my  amazement,  as  my  eyes 
grew  accustomed  to  the  gloom,  the  faint  light  came 
from  ahead  of  me  and  seemed  to  strike  upwards  from 
the  bowels  of  the  earth. 

"Do  not  be   afraid,  little  boy!     But  hold  your 

387 


poisoiv^  isla:n'd 

head  low ;  and  look  to  your  feet  now,  for  it  is  steep 
hereabouts." 

Steep  indeed  it  was.  A  kind  of  shaft,  floored  for 
the  most  part  with  slippery  earth,  but  here  and  there 
with  an  irregular  stairway  of  rock;  and  still  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  tunnel  shone  a  faint  light.  I  would 
have  given  worlds  by  this  time  to  retrace  my  steps. 
A  slight  draught,  blowing  up  the  tunnel  from  my 
companion  to  me,  bore  the  odor  of  death  upwards 
under  my  nostrils ;  but  this,  while  it  dizzied  and  sick- 
ened me,  seemed  to  clog  my  feet  and  take  away  all 
will  to  escape.  I  had  nearly  swooned,  indeed,  when 
my  feet  encountered  level  earth  again,  and  she  put 
out  a  hand  to  steady  me. 

"  Is— is— this  the  end  ?  " 

"  It  goes  down — down,  little  boy ;  but  we  need  not 
follow  it.  See,  there  is  light,  to  the  left  of  you ;  light, 
and  fresh  air,  and  my  pretty  bower." 

I  turned  as  her  hand  guided  me.  A  puff  of  wind 
blew  on  my  cheek,  cold  and  infinitely  pure.  I  stood 
blinking  in  a  short  gallery  that  ended  suddenly  in 
blue  sky,  and,  staggering  forward,  I  cast  myself 
down  on  the  brink. 

It  was  as  though  I  lay  on  the  sill  of  a  great  open 
window.  Below  me — far  below — waved  great  masses 
of  forest,  and  beyond  these — far  beyond — shone  the 
blue  sea.     I  cannot  say  to  what  depth  the  cliff  fell 

388 


WE    FIND    THE    TREASURE 

away  below  me.  It  was  more  than  sheer — it  was  un- 
dercut.    I  lay  as  one  suspended  over  the  void. 

"  But  see,  pe-ritty  boy !  Did  I  not  promise  you 
wonders  ? " 

As  I  faced  around  to  the  darkness  of  the  gallery, 
she  held  aloft  something  which,  for  the  moment,  I 
mistook  for  a  great  green  snake  with  lines  of  fire 
running  from  scale  to  scale  and  sparkling  as  she 
waved  it  before  me.  I  rolled  over  upon  my  elbow 
and  stared.     It  was  a  rope  of  emeralds. 

She  flung  an  end  over  one  shoulder  and  looped  it 
low  over  her  breast ;  then,  passing  the  other  end  about 
her  neck,  she  brought  it  forward  over  the  same  shoul- 
der and  let  it  dangle.     It  reached  almost  to  her  feet, 

"  Does  it  become  me,  little  boy  ?  "  She  made  me 
a  mock  courtesy  that  set  the  gems  dancing  with  fire. 
"  Come  and  choose,  then !  "  She  put  out  both  hands 
to  the  darkness  by  the  wall,  and  a  whole  cascade  of 
jewels  came  sliding  down  and  poured  themselves 
with  a  rush  about  her  feet  and  across  the  floor  of  the 
gallery.  She  laughed  and  thrust  her  hands  again 
into  the  heap. 

"  All  these  I  found — I  myself — and  carried  up 
here  from  the  darkness.  Take  what  you  will,  little 
boy,  and  run  back  to  your  ship.  It  is  diamonds  you 
will  choose,  or  rubies,  or — see  here — this  chain  of 
pearls  ?    I  do  not  like  pearls,  for  my.  part :  they  mean 

389 


POISON    ISLAND 

sorrow.  But — see  here  again ! — there  were  boxes  and 
boxes,  all  heaped  to  the  brim,  and  long  robes  sewn 
all  over  with  pearls.  Take  what  you  like,  but — lie 
will  not  know.  He  gives  me  diamonds  sometimes.  I 
adored  them  in  the  old  days,  in  opera.  And  he  re- 
members and  gives  me  a  stone  from  time  to  time,  to 
keep  me  amused.  I  laugh  to  myself,  then,  when  I 
think  of  the  store  I  keep,  here  in  my  bower.  And  he 
so  clever !  But  he  does  not  guess.  Ah,  child,  if  I 
had  had  but  these  to  wear,  when  I  used  to  sing 
Eurydice !  " 

She  held  out  two  handfuls  of  diamonds,  and  be- 
gan to  sing  in  a  high,  cracked  voice,  while  she  let  them 
rain  through  her  fingers. 

"  But  listen !  "  I  cried  suddenly. 

She  ceased  at  once,  and  stood  with  her  face  half 
turned  to  the  darkness  behind  her,  her  arms  rigid  at 
her  sides,  the  gems  dropping  as  her  hands  slowly  un- 
clasped them.  Below,  where  the  tunnel  ran  down 
into  darkness,  a  voice  hailed: 

"Metta!    Is  that  Metta?" 

It  was  the  voice  of  Dr.  Beauregard.  The  poor 
creature  gazed  at  me  helplessly  and  ran  for  the  stair- 
way. But  her  feet  sank  in  the  loose  heap  of  jewels ; 
she  stumbled ;  and,  as  she  picked  herself  up,  I  saw 
that  she  was  too  late;  for  already  a  light  shone  up 
from  the  tunnel  below,  and  before  she  could  gain  the 

390 


WE    FIJTD    THE    TREASURE 

exit  the  Doctor  stood  there,  lifting  a  torch,  in  the 
light  of  which  I  saw  Mr.  Rogers  close  behind  his 
shoulder. 

"Metta!" 

I  do  not  think  he  would  have  hurt  her.  But  as  the 
torch  flared  in  her  face  and  lit  up  the  shining  heap  of 
jewels,  she  threw  up  both  hands  and  doubled  back, 
screaming.  I  believe  that  she  called  to  me  to  hide. 
I  put  out  a  hand  to  catch  her  by  the  skirt,  seeing  that 
she  ran  madly;  but  the  thin  muslin  tore  in  my  clutch. 

"Metta!" 

On  the  ledge,  against  the  sky,  the  voice  seemed  to 
overtake  and  steady  her  for  a  second;  but  too  late. 
With  a  choking  cry,  she  put  out  both  hands  against 
the  void,  and  toppled  forward ;  and  in.  the  entraaco 
was  nothing  but  the  blue,  empty  sky. 


391 


CHAPTER    XXXIV 


DOCTOR    BEAUREGARD 


"  Glass  ?  My  dear  madam,  pardon  my  remiss- 
ness: he  is  dead.  Rosa  brought  me  the  news  before 
we  sat  down  to  table." 

I  opened  my  eyes.  In  the  words,  as  I  came  back 
to  consciousness,  I  found  nothing  remarkable,  nor 
for  a  few  seconds  did  it  surprise  me  that  the  dark  gal- 
lery had  changed  into  a  panelled,  lighted  room,  with 
candles  shining  on  a  long,  white  table,  and  on  flowers 
and  crystal  decanters,  and  dishes  heaped  with  fruit. 
The  candles  were  shaded,  and  from  the  sofa  where  I 
lay  I  saw  across  the  cloth  the  faces  of  Miss  Belcher 
and  Captain  Branscome  intent  on  the  Doctor.  He 
was  leaning  forward  from  the  head  of  the  table  and 
speaking  to  Plinny,  who  sat  with  her  back  to  me, 
darkly  silhouetted  against  the  light.  Mr.  Rogers,  on 
Plinny's  left,  had  turned  his  chair  sideways  and  was 
listening  too;  and  at  the  lower  end  of  the  board  a  tall 
epergne  of  silver  partially  hid  the  form  of  Mr.  Good- 
fellow. 

392 


DOCTOR  BEAUREGARD 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  ought  to  have  told  you,"  went 
on  the  Doctor's  voice.  "  But  really  no  recovery 
could  be  expected.  The  man's  heart  was  utterly 
diseased." 

His  gaze,  travelling  past  Plinny,  wandered  as  if 
casually  towards  me,  where  I  lay  in  the  penumbra.  I 
felt  it  coming,  and  closed  my  eyes;  and  on  the  instant 
my  brain  cleared. 

Yes;  Glass  was  dead,  of  course,  poisoned  by  this 
man  as  ruthlessly  as  these  my  friends  would  be  poi- 
soned if  I  cried  out  no  warning.  Or  perhaps  it  had 
happened  already. 

I  opened  my  eyes  again,  cautiously,  little  by  little. 
The  Doctor  was  filling  Plinny's  glass.  Having  filled 
it,  he  pushed  the  decanters  towards  Mr.  Rogers, 
and  turned  to  say  a  word  to  Miss  Belcher,  on  his 
right.  No ;  there  was  time.  It  had  not  happened — 
yet. 

I  wanted  to  start  up  and  scream  aloud.  But  some 
power,  stronger  than  my  will,  held  me  down  against 
the  sofa-cushion.  I  had  lost  all  grip  of  myself — of 
my  life  and  of  my  limbs  alike.  I  could  neither  stir 
nor  speak,  but  lay  watching  with  half-closed  eyes, 
while  the  room  swam  and  in  my  ears  I  heard  a  thin 
voice  buzzing :  "  Tell  your  friends — the  ice — he  never 
touches  the  ice.  But  it  will  not  save  them.  He  will 
find  some  other  way." 

393 


POISOI^    ISLAND 

The  door  opened,  and  its  opening  broke  the  spell. 
On  the  threshold  stood  the  tall  negress  with  a  tray  of 
coffee-cups,  and  on  the  tray  a  salver  with  a  number 
of  little  glasses  and  a  glass  bowl — a  bowl  of  ice.  Her 
master  pushed  back  the  decanters  to  make  room  for 
the  tray  before  him.  She  set  it  down,  and  the  little 
glasses  jingled  softly. 

"  Upon  my  word,  sir,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  "  what 
wonder  upon  wonders  is  this?  Ice?  And  in  Mortal- 
lone?" 

"  It  is  Rosa's  little  surprise,  madam,  and  she  will 
be  gratified  by  your " 

He  pushed  back  his  chair  and,  leaving  the  sentence 
unfinished,  rose  swiftly  and  came  to  me  as  I  stag- 
gered up  from  the  sofa.  A  cry  worked  in  my  throat, 
but  before  I  could  utter  it  his  two  hands  were  on  my 
shoulders,  and  he  had  appealed  to  the  company  with 
a  triumphant  little  laugh, 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  the  child  would  come  to  him- 
self all  right  ?  A  simple  sedative — after  the  fright 
he  had.  He's  trembling  now,  poor  boy.  No,  ma'am  " 
— he  turned  to  Plinny,  who  had  risen,  and  was  com- 
ing forward  solicitously ;  "  let  him  sit  upright  for  a 
moment,  while  he  comes  to  his  bearings.  Or,  better 
still,  when  you  have  finished  your  coffee — if  Miss 
Belcher  will  be  kind  enough  to  pour  it  for  me — we 
will  take  him  out  into  the  fresh  air.     Yes,  yes,  and 

394 


DOCTOR  BEAUREGARD 

the  sooner  the  better,  for  I  see  that  Mr.  Rogers  is 
fidgeting  to  be  out  and  assure  himself  that  the  treas- 
ure has  not  taken  wings." 

He  forced  me  gently  back  to  my  seat,  and  walked 
to  the  table. 

"  "What  were  we  saying?  Ah,  yes — to  be  sure — 
about  the  ice."  He  lifted  his  coffee-cup  with  a  steady 
hand,  and,  his  eyes  travelling  over  it,  fixed  them- 
selves on  me,  as  though  to  make  sure  I  was  recov- 
ering. "  The  ice  is  a  surprise  of  Rosa's,  and  I  assure 
you  she  is  proud  of  it.  But  (you  may  go,  Rosa),  I 
advise  you  to  content  yourselves  with  wondering;  for 
the  water  on  these  hills,  strange  to  say,  is  not 
healthy." 

They  voted  the  Doctor's  advice  to  be  good,  and, 
having  finished  their  coffee,  wandered  out  into  the 
fresh  air,  Plinny  took  my  arm,  and,  leading  me  to 
the  veranda,  found  me  a  comfortable  seat,  where  I 
could  recline  and  compose  myself,  for  I  was  trem- 
bling yet. 

"  They  have  stacked  the  treasure  there  beyond  the 
last  window,"  Plinny  informed  me,  nodding  towards 
the  end  of  the  veranda,  where  Captain  Branscome, 
Mr.  Rogers  and  Mr.  Goodfellow  were  already  gath- 
ered and  busy  in  conversation.  "  In  bulk  it  is  less 
than  we  expected,  but  in  value  (the  Doctor  says)  it 
goes    beyond    everything.      Three    hundredweight, 

395 


POISON    ISLAND 

they  say,  and  in  pure  gems.  He  is  to  choose  his 
share,  by  and  by;  and  then  we  have  to  contrive  how 
to  take  it  down  to  the  ship." 

"  Miss  Plinlimmon/'  said  the  Captain,  coming 
towards  us,  "  you  promised  me  a  word  yesterday.  I 
should  wish  to  claim  it  now — that  is,  if  Harry  can 
spare  you."  I  observed  that  his  voice  shook  a  little, 
but  this  I  set  down  to  excitement. 

"  Did  I  ?  Yes,  I  remember."  Miss  Plinlimmon's 
voice,  too,  was  tremulous.  She  hesitated,  and  her 
eyes  in  the  dim  light  seemed  to  seek  mine. 

I  assured  her  that  I  was  recovering  fast,  here 
in  the  fresh  air,  and  that  it  would  be  a  kindness, 
indeed,  to  leave  me  alone.  She  bent  quickly  and 
kissed  me.  I  wondered  why,  as  she  stepped  past 
the  Captain  and  he  followed  her  down  the  veranda 
steps. 

I  wished  to  be  left  alone.  I  was  puzzled,  and  what 
puzzled  me  was  that  neither  Miss  Belcher  nor  Dr. 
Beauregard  had  left  the  dining-room.  In  fact,  as  I 
passed  out  through  the  window,  happening  to  turn 
my  head,  I  had  caught  sight  of  his  face,  and  it  had 
signalled  to  her  to  stay.  I  knew  not  why  he  should 
intend  harm  to  Miss  Belcher  rather  than  to  any  other 
of  our  party.  But  I  distrusted  the  man;  and  Plinny 
had  scarcely  left  me  before,  having  made  sure  that 
Mr.  Rogers  and  Mr.  Good  fellow  were  within  easy 

396 


DOCTOR  BEAUREGAED 

call,  I  rose  up  softly,  crept  to  the  dining-room  win- 
dow, and,  dropping  upon  hands  and  knees  close  by 
the  wall,  peered  into  the  room. 

The  Doctor  and  Miss  Belcher  had  reseated  them- 
selves. He  had  poured  himself  out  another  glass  of 
wine  and  was  holding  it  up  to  the  light  with  a  steady 
hand,  while  she  watched  him,  her  elbows  on  the 
table  and  her  firm  jaw  resting  on  her  clasped  fingers. 
Her  face,  though  it  showed  no  sign  of  fear,  was 
pallid. 

"  Yes,"  he  was  saying  slowly;  "  it  is  too  late  at  this 
hour  to  be  discussing  what  the  priests  would  call  the 
sin  of  it.  You  would  never  convince  me;  and  if  you 
convinced  me,  I  am  too  old — and  too  weary — for 
what  the  priests  call  repentance.  I  am  Martin — the 
same  man  that  outwitted  Melhuish  and  his  crew — the 
same  that  played  Harry  with  this  Glass,  and  the  man 
Cofiin,  and  a  drunken  old  ruffian  they  brought  with 
them  from  Whydah.  The  fools !  to  think  to  frighten 
me,  that  had  started  by  laying  out  a  whole  ship's 
crew!  And  now  you  come  along;  and  I  hold  you  all 
in  the  hollow  of  my  palm.  But  I  open  my  hand — so 
— and  let  you  go.    AVhy? 

"  Why  ?     I  have  told  you.     I  am  tired." 

"  That  is  not  all  the  truth,"  answered  Miss 
Belcher,  eying  him  steadily. 

"  Xo ;  it  is  not  all  the  truth.     No  one  tells  all 

397 


POISON    ISLAND 

the  truth  in  this  world.  But  I  am  glad  you 
challenge  me,  for  you  shall  have  a  little  more  of 
the  truth.  I  let  you  go  because  in  a  way  you 
were  simpletons,  and  I  had  not  dealt  with  simple- 
tons before." 

"Is  that  the  truth?"  she  persisted. 

He  laughed  and  sipped  his  wine. 

"  No;  I  let  you  go  because  I  saw  in  you — I  who 
have  killed  many  for  wealth  and  more  for  the  mere 
pleasure  of  power — something  which  told  me  that, 
after  all,  I  had  missed  the  secret.  From  an  outcast 
child  in  Havana  I  had  made  myself  the  sole  king  of 
this  treasure  of  Mortallone.  I  went  back  and  made 
slaves  of  men  and  women  who  had  tossed  that  child 
their  coppers  in  contemptuous  pity.  I  brought  them 
here,  to  Mortallone,  to  play  with  them;  and  as  soon' 
as  they  tired  me,  they — went.  It  was  power  I 
wanted;  power  I  achieved;  and  in  power,  as  I 
thought,  lay  the  secret.  The  fools  in  this  world  say 
that  a  poisoner  is  always  a  coward:  it  is  one  of  the 
phrases  with  which  fools  cheat  themselves.  For  long 
I  was  sure  of  myself;  and  then,  when  the  thought 
began  to  haunt  me  that,  after  all,  I  had  missed  the 
secret,  I  sought  out  the  man  who,  in  Europe,  had 
made  himself  more  powerful  than  kings;  and  I  found 
that  he  had  missed  the  secret  too.  Then  I  guessed 
that  the  secret  is  beyond  a  man's  power  to  achieve, 

398 


DOCTOR  BEAUREGARD 

unless  it  be  born  with  him :  that  the  gods  themselves 
cannot  help  a  man  born  in  bastardy  as  I  was,  or  born 
with  a  vulgar  soul,  as  was  Napoleon.  One  chance  of 
redemption  he  has — to  mate  with  a  woman  who  has, 
and  has  known  from  birth,  the  secret  which  he  has 
missed.  I  guessed  it — I  that  had  wasted  my  days 
with  singing-women,  such  as  poor  Metta !  Then  I 
met  you,  and  I  knew.  Yes,  madam,  you — you,  whose 
life  to-night  I  had  almost  taken  with  a  touch — taught 
me  that  I  had  left  woman  out  of  account.  Ah, 
madam,  if  the  world  were  twenty  years  younger! 
.  .  .  Will  you  do  me  the  honor  to  touch  glasses  and 
drink  with  me  ?  " 

"  Not  on  any  account,"  said  Miss  Belcher,  rising. 
"  Not  to  put  too  fine  a  point  upon  it,  you  make  me 
feel  thoroughly  sick;  but" — she  hesitated  on  the 
threshold  of  the  window — "  the  worst  of  it  is,  I  think 
I  understand  you  a  little." 

I  drew  back  into  the  shadow.  Her  stiff  skirt  almost 
struck  me  ia  the  cheek  as  she  passed,  and,  crossing 
the  veranda,  leaned  with  both  hands  on  the  rail, 
while  her  face  went  up  to  the  sky  and  the  newly  risen 
moon. 

A  voice  spoke  to  her  from  the  moonlit  terrace 
below. 

"  Hallo !  "  she  answered.  "  Is  that  Captain 
Branscome  ? " 

399 


POISON    ISLAND 


(I 


It  is,  ma'am:  and  Miss  Plinlimmon — Amelia — 
as  she  allows  me  to  call  her." 

Miss  Belcher  cut  him  short  with  a  laugh.  It  rang 
out  frank  and  free  enough,  and  only  I,  crouching  by 
the  wall,  understood  the  hysterical  springs  of  it. 

"  You  two  geese !  "  she  exclaimed,  and  ran  down 
the  steps  to  them. 

•  •  •  •  • 

"  Was  that  Lydia?  "  demanded  Mr.  Rogers,  a  mo- 
ment later,  as  he  came  along  the  veranda. 

"  It  was,"  I  answered. 

"  I  don't  understand  these  people,"  grumbled  Mr. 
Rogers,  pausing  and  scratching  his  head.  "  There 
was  to  have  been  a  meeting  outside  here,  directly 
after  supper,  to  divide  off  Dr.  Beauregard's  share; 
but  confound  it  if  every  one  don't  seem  to  be  playing 
hide-and-seek !    Where's  the  Doctor  ?  " 

"  In  the  dining-room !  "  said  I,  nodding  towards 
the  window. 

He  stepped  towards  it.  At  that  moment  I  heard  a 
dull  thud  within  the  room,  and  Mr.  Rogers,  his  foot 
already  on  the  threshold,  drew  back  with  a  cry.  I 
ran  to  his  elbow. 

On  the  floor,  stretched  at  her  master's  feet,  lay  the 
negress  Rosa.  Dr.  Beauregard  stood  by  the  corner 
of  the  table,  and  poured  himself  a  small  glassful  of 
cura^oa.     While  we  gazed  at  him  he  reached  out  a 

400 


DOCTOR  BEAUREGARD 

hand  to  the  icebowl,  selected  a  small  piece,  and 
dropped  it  delicately  into  the  glass.  I  heard  it  tingle 
against  the  rim. 

"  Your  good  health,  sirs!  "  said  Dr.  Beauregard. 

He  sat  back  rigid  in  his  chair. 


THE    END 


401 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


'  MOB  1  a  m 


Form  L9-10m-3,'48(A7920)444 


THF   MRRAJIY 

trvivER.v  c:aufx>rjnia 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  368  374    5 


3  1158  00992  1379 


'i 


